


Danger Is What You Taste Like

by craiteys



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Games), Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Original Mythology, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:54:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craiteys/pseuds/craiteys
Summary: Lara finds herself teaming up with Sam Drake for a treasure hunting job and while it's a fresh breath of air from her usual escapades, she quickly realizes that she's way in over her head.





	1. Partners In Crime

**Author's Note:**

> The Lara from the Crystal Dynamics reboot is my favorite incarnation and is the one I envisioned when I was writing this but feel free to imagine her in whatever timeline you like :P

_London, England_

_11:55 A.M._

 

Lara felt excited, a giddy sort of nervousness having overtaken her as she scrambled around her father’s study, stacking certain books in piles on the floor and reshelving others that she no longer needed, which had been written on a plethora of subjects -- Egyptian mythology, Egyptian curses, Egyptian legends, and that was only one country’s collection of tales -- by Richard Croft and other scholars as well. Being that it was her father’s study, more of his own works were located around the room while most of his other books that had been written by others were shelved in the library’s stacks just down the hall. 

Thanks to the windows she’d opened, the study felt pleasantly chilly, even more so since she’d tossed her hoodie and leather jacket hanging off the back of her father’s desk chair and all she had on was a navy blue tank top and her favorite pair of cargo pants that had become a little worn -- not that she was willing to admit it or part with them yet.

For now, she was simply biding time, occasionally sparing glances at her wristwatch while rearranging the books that sat scattered around the study, packing up any last essentials she would need for the trip if her meeting went well, and of course, doing research because she didn't want to go to Sam Drake empty-handed.

“Jonah!” 

“Going somewhere?” Jonah asked as he strode over to where Lara stood at the desk with a backpack in front of her ready to be packed with essentials for travel, which included her passport and several books and charts, by the look of it. It definitely wasn’t enough for a trip to some foreign land, that was for sure, but the sight of her red pickaxes on the table worried him.

“I’m meeting up with a client.”

“For what?”

“A job. Treasure hunting, to be specific,” she explained and moments after she did, Jonah’s smile faltered before being replaced with concern.

“Are you sure about this, Lara?”

“Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“If you don’t count Yamatai, you’ve never gone treasure hunting before.”

“I _don’t_ count Yamatai. And besides, there’s a first time for everything, Jonah, and Sam Drake’s proposition seems promising enough.”

“But how do you know you’re not walking right into a trap? Trinity could have sent him to kill you!”

“I checked up on this Samuel Drake,” Lara reassured him. “He isn’t some Trinity agent and even if he was, I seriously doubt he would try to kill me in broad daylight. It would draw way too much attention that Trinity doesn't want.”

But despite her confidence, Jonah didn't seem convinced, as evidenced by the scowl on his face. He looked more apprehensive than a five-year-old about to take a leap from the diving board at the pool on their first day of swim lessons and she quickly realized that no amount of reassurances could possibly convince him otherwise but at the same time, she couldn’t be swayed, either. 

“Aren’t you tired, though?”

“Of what? Traveling and adventuring? No, never!”

“Lara, if you don’t, your next expedition could be your last!”

“Jonah, don’t say that!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t lose any more friends! You’re risking your life for things that aren’t worth it!”

“Trinity is still a threat but I can’t just put my life completely on hold because of them! I need to figure out a way to make money. I think Roth would--”

“They would have wanted you to stop, too!”

“If he was still alive, Roth wouldn’t have stopped! And besides, I swear that Sam Drake is clean. He's just looking to partner up with me for a job, nothing more.”

“That’s what you’re chasing after? Money?”

“It’s not just money but Jonah, what's the big deal? Weren't you the one who wanted me to stop chasing after Trinity? That's what I'm doing so what's the problem now?”

“You're still running off to strange places and risking your life! When are you going to stop?”

“I’ll stop when I feel like it!” she snapped with a tone of finality, which effectively silenced Jonah but also left the atmosphere in the room feeling choked, silent save for the sound of birds chirping just outside the open window.

Lara also found herself glaring daggers into Jonah’s forehead, his steely gaze matching her own as they tried to stare each other down to see who would look away first, but the look of disappointment in his eyes made her heart sink deeper and deeper into her stomach with every passing second until she was sure it would tear a hole in her gut to escape. The silence was so deafening that Lara knew a gunshot would have sounded like an explosion and every moment that passed by was more maddening than the last.

And then, after what had felt like an eternity, Jonah sighed heavily as he said,

“Lara, if you’re not going to stop while there’s still somebody there to catch you, then I’m not going to be there when you fall. I’m sorry.”

“Jonah, wait!” she called after him but nothing she said could convince him to look back at her, leaving her with a sinking feeling in her chest as she watched her friend trudge out of the study until he disappeared from sight and the front door slamming announced his exit from the manor. 

“Damn it!”

Disappointed as she was, Lara forced herself to snap out of the reverie she’d inadvertently slipped into, vision quickly refocusing on the map that was in front of her so that she was no longer staring off into space. She hadn’t expected Jonah to storm out just like that but she forced herself not to dwell on what had transpired, refocusing her attention on her notes and the map she'd marked up as it was more important at the moment.

Jonah was, too, but she found herself a little more preoccupied with getting results to show Sam Drake -- and for herself -- to worry about her friend. There would be time for that later, after the expedition was over.

That was the attitude Roth had, placing priority on the job rather than falling back on his emotions when things went wrong, but two tours with the Royal Marines and a lifetime of treasure hunting had shaped him into the man he had been up until he died. And upset as she was, Lara found herself leaning on that mindset -- _Roth’s mindset_ \-- to focus on what truly mattered at the moment.

Jonah would just have to wait.

Straightening her back, Lara set down the pencil she had used to mark up the map with a few more potential spots that could lead to the location of the scepter that belonged to the Queen of Thorns, an enigma to history, and spared a quick glance at her wristwatch after double-checking her calculations with her notes.

 _One more hour until I have to go meet with Sam Drake._ _I might as well get going so I can get there on time._

An hour wasn’t a lot of time, after all, and she still had to make the journey to their meeting place, a coffee shop located in the center of London, and be there on schedule as time was of the essence. She wasn’t sure if Sam Drake was the impatient type but being late to anything never set a good impression, which was why she found herself circling around her father’s desk and slinging her backpack onto her shoulders as she hurried out, grabbing her keys and hopping on her bicycle before she’d even left the manor grounds.

Even though it was midday and there was noticeable traffic, Lara noticed herself _cruising_ around cars and across busy streets, sometimes slowing down but mostly pedaling faster than normal as she passed street after street, which had her leg muscles burning as a result. It wasn’t a bad feeling, though, and when she arrives at their agreed meeting spot with fifteen minutes to spare, she locks her bike at the rack located a few strides away before shucking off her leather jacket, feeling gratitude for the cool air that hits her bare skin and for having only worn a tank top underneath.

With fifteen minutes to spare, she figured she could take a few moments to cool down before going to meet with Sam Drake, not wanting to be a complete sweaty mess when she approached her potential business partner.

 _That shit might be acceptable in Yamatai but certainly not here,_ Lara thought, scolding herself even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, she was sure it had something to do with being a little too self-conscious with returning to a normal life after the madness that was Yamatai.

Now, if only the newspapers that continued to call her ‘crazy as her father’ would fuck off, Lara thought as she strode into the cafe, deciding that she’d dawdled long enough.

“I regret to inform you that all of our tables are full so if you’d like, I can try to seat you somewhere after I take your order,” the barista suggested when it was her turn to order.

“Thank you, but I’m here to meet someone. I’m sure he’s already here.”

“Alright, then. Ready to order?”

“Let me have a small coffee,” Lara answered after having quickly scanned the menu, not wanting to appear like a rude patron who expected to be able to sit in the cafe without having purchased anything. Surely, that would have put an abrupt end to her meeting with Sam before it even began and so, rather than draw unnecessary attention to herself, Lara paid for her small coffee without so much as a complaint and gratefully took the cardboard cup that was given to her a few minutes later.

Almost as soon as she turned around, scalding hot coffee in hand, she locked eyes with a man sitting at one of the cafe’s outdoor tables with a cigarette perched between his lips and there was something about him -- she wasn’t sure if it was his blue Hawaiian shirt or the way he seemed awfully relaxed despite sitting all by himself -- that tells her she’s found Sam Drake.

“Sam Drake, I take it?” she asked as she approached the man at the table, holding out her hand to shake when he smiles at er.

“The one and only. Lara Croft, right?” 

“Yes, that’s me. Should we discuss why we’re here?”

“Yeah, let’s get down to business,” Sam agreed. “Can I get you anything before we start?” 

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” Lara said as she sat down in the empty chair across from Sam, gesturing to the small coffee that sat in front of her.

“Alright, then. Since you’re here, I’m assuming you’re interested in working with me?”

“Yes, I am. And actually, after you reached out to me, I did some preliminary research on the Queen of Thorns and based on the information you gave me, I believe I’m close to finding the exact location of the scepter. I’m confident that we’ll have it soon.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear! You know, with your… expertise, I figure we could come across a pretty big payday. How does that sound?”

“I’m interested,” Lara reassured him, although she couldn’t blame Sam for being apprehensive that she would consider him ‘crazy’.  From her own experiences with every known newspaper calling her ‘insane’ after Yamatai, she knew how that felt.

The world had more mysteries than answers to offer but after Yamatai and Kitezh, she found that she couldn’t quite ignore the yearning for adventure she felt whenever she returned home, having found herself craving everything from treasure hunts to archeological digs and nothing could truly ever sate her for long. Drama-hungry newspapers and yellow journalists be damned.

“Okay, good. So you’re willing to work with me?”

“Of course! What’s the pay going to be like?”

Even back when they had first set sail in search of the now not-so-fabled island of Yamatai, Roth had always insisted upon one thing: to discuss payment up front so that everybody knew what cut they would be getting of anything valuable they found, considering money to be the most important topic of discussion before they had embarked. Money had been the reason -- or the lack of it -- why they nearly didn’t embark for Yamatai and looking back, the journey hadn’t been worth it, Lara thought. 

Roth’s death, for one thing, was something she still felt every day and maybe, just maybe, they all would have been better off if they -- she -- hadn’t found Yamatai.

 _Try to focus on what matters, Lara,_ she reminded herself as she focused her attention back at Sam just in time to see him take out a cigarette from the box sitting in his shirt pocket.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked her around the cigarette that was perched between his lips and she shook her head, which was all it took for the stench of smoke and nicotine to ignite the air but she didn’t mind as much because as the wind picked up, the gentle breeze ended up pushing the stench of cigarette smoke away from her. Instead of irritating her, the orange glow from Sam’s cigarette had her mesmerized, gaze flickering between the smoke wafting from the butt of the cigarette and Sam’s face.

“So when you plan on heading out?”

“How does tomorrow morning sound?”

“I like the way you think,” he chuckled, tapping on his cigarette to rid it of the excess ash that clung to the butt. He looked up at her, dark eyes glimmering with what looked like excitement and for the first time in so long, Lara felt she could also feel excited, finding herself able to grin at the man sitting just across the table from her.

“One question: what’s the pay going to be like?”

“Fifty-fifty-fifty of whatever we find,” Sam explained. “I know buyers who would pay handsomely if we brought back relics from the Setica Dynasty.”

“Or even better, evidence of the kingdom’s existence.”

“Whatever works for you. Partners?” he asked as he held his hand out for her to shake, which she did without missing a beat.

“Partners.”

 

♦♦♦

 

_The Ch_ _á_ _nson Mining Basin_

_Ch_ _á_ _nson, France_

_4:33 A.M._

 

Stepping out of her cabin from below deck, Lara was met with the smell of warm, salty air and the first rays of sunshine peeking out over the horizon and while the air felt somewhat cool, it wasn’t freezing nor was Lara worried about the temperature, knowing that it would only get warmer as the day went on. As for sleep, she definitely missed her bed back home but she couldn’t bring herself to complain about the level of hospitality Sully’s salvage boat provided, having found it _just cozy enough_ that she had been able to get a decent few hours of sleep, even more so because the time zone difference between France and the UK was only an hour.

It was a nice change from the usual jet lag and out-of-whack sleep schedules she normally had to endure on her adventures but Lara quickly reminded herself not to get used to it since she wouldn’t always be so fortunate. Still, it was too good of a feeling not to relish in, Lara figuring that she could enjoy it for as long as it lasted until her adventures delivered her to another far-off corner of the world where she would be able to get reacquainted with jet lag once more. 

_It almost feels like I haven’t left home, not that I’ve ever felt homesick. Being on this boat does make me miss Roth even more, though._

The thought of Roth, her dear mentor and the closest thing she ever had to a father, made her wish he was still alive and sailing around the world in a sailboat with millions in his retirement fund and not a care in the world. Instead, all she had left of him were his twin Remington 1911 R1 pistols to remember him by but even that wasn’t enough.

_I still remember climbing aboard the Endurance like it was yesterday. All that shit we went through makes me wish we'd never found Yamatai. I think I could have lived with myself if we hadn't found Yamatai but it's been really hard dealing with Roth’s passing. If anything, I'd rather have him around than fame… or rather, notoriety. But I guess there’s no point in dwelling on the past when doing so won’t change anything._

“Hey, you’re up early!” Sam yawned as he stepped out on deck, armed with his trusty lighter and box of cigarettes, which was no surprise since it seemed that he was always in possession of a pack of smokes.

“Good morning to you, too,” Lara hummed in mild amusement.

“Yeah, it’s always a good morning when you start it with a cigarette and a treasure hunt.”

“ _That’s_ a normal morning for you?”

“Yeah, usually. How about you? Earl grey tea and… archeology?” 

“More like a bottle of vodka and shooting down helicopters,” Lara chuckled lightly.

“Sounds like fun. Tell me that story sometime?” Sam requested as he motioned her over to the map of Europe that they had rolled out inside the cabin of Sully’s boat, where it was safe from the elements and could be marked up as they saw fit.

“Of course, another time,” Lara agreed. Then, as she looked over the map, she found herself double-checking her calculations and felt herself getting excited with every passing minute. “According to the charts I’ve been studying, _we’re very close_ to finding the Queen of Thorns’ burial chamber.”

“How close, would you say?” Sam questioned, peering over her shoulder at the map spread out on the table, complete with triangulation markings that had narrowed down their area of search quite considerably, to Sam’s relief.

“If I had to give you an estimate, I’d say we’re within range, give or take fifteen kilometers north of here.”

“That’s not bad… but how much is that in miles?”

“That’s ten miles,” Sully answered before Lara could, looking awfully smug.

“Oh, hey, Victor. Wasn’t expecting you to be awake for a few more hours, at least,” Sam teased and Lara had to bite down on her tongue to keep herself from laughing at the very obvious old person joke that had just been made.

“No time to sleep when there’s treasure to find,” Sully commented without missing a beat.

“It’s still a lot of ground to cover but we’re within range, I’m sure of it,” Lara stated confidently, hoping to turn their attention back to the matter at hand and thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult because the thought of treasure had Sam and Sully both turning their attention to her within seconds after ending their banter.

“Leave it to you two to go looking for the goddamn Queen of Thorns.”

“You came along so what does that say about you, Victor?” Sam chuckled lightly.

“If we find it, the payout is going to be real pretty,” said man chuckled around the unlit cigar that had somehow found its way into his mouth. “That’s the only reason why I’m here.”

 _I’m surrounded by smokers,_ Lara thought, mildly amused but also a little irritated all the same. 

“Only interested in the climax, as usual,” Sam snorted.

“Reminds me of somebody I know,” Lara commented, only to quickly correct herself by saying, “ _knew_.”

“What, like an old partner or something?”

“I suppose you could say that, but he was more than that to me,” Lara shrugged. Quickly realizing how _cryptic_ her response was, she adds, “his name was Conrad Roth. He hunted for treasure and made a living smuggling artifacts.”

“Conrad Roth, huh? I knew him, once upon a time,” Sully commented. “Good guy and reliable treasure hunter. He also talked about you a lot.”

“He did? Then I'm assuming that’s how you knew to contact me?” Lara guessed after Sully nodded.

“We heard about Yamatai, too,” Sam added, albeit a bit hesitantly, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Saw the newspapers and we figured you were the best person for this job.”

“I see.”

“It's a shame Roth didn't make it back. Sorry for your loss, kiddo,” Sully said albeit regretfully.

“Thank you,” Lara muttered gratefully. 

Rather than dwell on her grief, she quickly suggested that they look over their charts one more time, to which Sam and Sully both agreed without needing much convincing. It was a welcome attitude, which she favored over Jonah’s apprehension and Dr. Whitman’s -- may he burn for eternity -- annoying flightiness, which she was sure had just been a ploy to steal all the credit when the opportunity arose. She couldn’t be sure, seeing as Whitman had justifiably met his end back on Yamatai, but she wasn’t willing to give him any credit even in death.

“Treasure hunting, anybody?” Sam interrupted, which was all it took for Lara and Sully to crowd around the map on either side of him so they could double-check their coordinates one final time and discuss their plan of action while they were still on dry land.

“We’re wasting daylight, after all.”

“This is like trying to find a bride in a brothel but I’ll give you both props if you actually manage to find the Queen of Thorns’ resting place,” Sully commented. Smoke wafted from the cigar perched between his thumb and index finger and Lara couldn’t help but smile wide 

“Is he always like this?” Lara asked, an amused smile stretching across her mouth as she pulled her backpack onto her shoulders and snapped the buckle closed after she’d adjusted the straps so it sat comfortably against her chest but didn't weigh her down as much as it probably should have.

“Yeah, but you get used to it,” Sam chuckled, pulling on his own backpack, which was identical to Lara’s save for the fact that hers had a thick, yellow stripe running along the seams on either side. Lara could only grin, feeling quite amused herself by her partners’ easy-going attitudes and ultimately finding it a nice change from her usually stress-filled escapades.

“I bet.”

 

♦♦♦

 

“So that's Lara Croft. Any relation to that psycho Richard Croft?”

“She's his daughter.”

“Huh, that's interesting,” the hired assassin muttered under his breath, setting aside the binoculars he had held in order to remove his gun from its holster, quickly loading in a new clip before holstering it once again. 

His fingers twitched with excitement just from having reloaded his gun, mild desperation setting in as a result of being perhaps a little too trigger-happy but when it came to Lara Croft, she was a target with a bounty that was too good to pass up.

“I'm surprised she's survived this long. I heard she once took down a helicopter all by herself in Pripyat and if that’s not insane, I don’t know what is.”

“The rumors about her are true but don't let yourself be intimidated. She's still no match for Trinity… and once she’s outworn her usefulness, kill her.”

“Roger that.”


	2. Between A Rock And A Hard Place

The gravel grinding under her shoes and the slippery sound of rushing water, cold and fierce in her ears, suddenly hit Lara as she realized that she would never quite grow accustomed to mudslides no matter how many expeditions she went on, that she would need to replace her ruined boots when she returned home to London, and that the clothes she currently wore were as good as done for unless she found a stream to wash off the muck. But as she careened down the slippery slope, narrowly avoiding debris that hurtled straight for her head, she realized her problems were a lot bigger than finding a stream as the slope she had left was quickly disappearing.

 _If I make it out of this alive, I’m going to treat myself to an all-you-can-eat buffet of jaffa cakes,_ Lara thought, hurling her hook at the post above her head just as the last of the slope disappeared and countless boulders went hurtling into the open chasm that had also opened up its arms to welcome her into its embrace.

That telltale _thunk_ as the claws of her hook buried themselves in the tree trunk sent her pounding heart skipping into overdrive, wind whipping at her face as she swung forward, hurtling towards the cliff so quickly that she barely had enough time to lift her legs up to cushion the blow so she didn’t smack face-first into the face of the cliff. Even then, she grimaces at the jolt that shoots through her when her legs were forced to bend towards her stomach a little more than she was comfortable with but it would all be over as soon as she made it to the top. 

Or at least, that's what she reminded herself of over and over again in hopes that her muscles wouldn't give out before she made it to the top. She felt dangerously close to letting go but forced herself to hold on, using her weight to guide herself out of danger until she hugged the side of the cliff, muscles straining to hold her up so she didn’t slip and tumble into the bottomless gorge just below that was waiting to swallow her up.

“Lara! You okay?” she heard a shout from above.

“Yes, I’m fine!” she shouted back, offering what little breath she had left to respond to Sam before swinging closer to the side of the cliff until she was able to grab onto the spaces between the rocks, using them as handholds and footholds as she painstakingly hoisted herself up.

When she got close enough to the top, she felt Sam grab ahold of her arms, hoisting her the rest of the way up until she could feel dirt under her fingertips and pebbles digging into her knees through her pants. The fabric had torn in a few places but it wasn’t anything so terrible that would affect her during their expedition. Either way, her pants were as good as gone when they went their separate ways.

“Thanks, Sam…”

“Holy shit, Lara, I thought you were a goner!”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she quipped without missing a beat, flashing Sam a smile as she climbed to her feet and dusted herself off the best she could.

“Try to keep your feet on the ground, okay, Crofty?”

 _Crofty? Never heard that one before,_ Lara thought, although she couldn’t say that she hated it, either.

She watched Sam take out a cigarette from the box in his shirt pocket and light it, igniting the air with the smell of nicotine that, for once, was actually soothing. Lara wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins that made her feel comforted, as strange as that felt admitting it to herself. The wispy trails of smoke wafting from the cigarette perched between Sam's lips held her interest for a little too long as she quickly caught herself staring not the cancer stick but _at Sam himself._  
  
_Keep it together, Lara,_ she silently scolded herself as she looked away, focusing her gaze on the snowy mountain range across the valley instead.  
  
Fortunately for her, Sam didn't comment on her staring -- hell, she was willing to bet that he hadn't even noticed anything was amiss with her or that maybe, just maybe, he had a better poker face than he let on -- and they continued, trudging up the cliff they stood on towards the peak where they hoped to get a better vantage and figure out where to head next. Lara’s hunch was that the queen’s tomb was buried away in the mountains somewhere but Sam had his own theories.

It felt refreshing not to be the only archeologist running around, despite Lara preferring to believe her research had brought her closer to finding the Queen of Thorns’ scepter than Sam. It was a team effort, she reminded herself, but her partner-in-crime seemed playful and carefree as much as he was determined to find this treasure and rake in the rewards it would bring.

“This is a pretty small region we’re scoping out, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, but I’m positive that we’re closer than we think,” she assured him.

“Wanna bet?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Let’s make things a little interesting: whoever is right gets some serious bragging rights once we find the treasure and whoever is wrong--”

“Hmm?”

“--buys drinks when this is all over,” Sam finished, holding out his hand for Lara to shake and she did so without missing a beat.

“I’ll take that bet.”

“I’ll be looking forward to a couple rounds of free drinks.”

“Yeah, that’s if you’re right,” Lara scoffed, “which you’re not.”

“We’ll see.”

Sam sounded a little too sure of himself but his confidence didn't deter Lara from sticking to her guns even as they ventured into a nearby cave as per Lara’s research but even against the bright glow of the orange flare in her hand, she could see the excitement on Sam’s face despite the fact that he was _probably_ going to be the one paying for their drinks once everything was all said and done.

As they ventured deeper into the cave, she couldn’t help but take notice to the massive wooden crates that were strewn on both sides of the cave at various points, almost like somebody had made it here before them. 

It couldn’t be a coincidence, she thought.

And because she couldn’t abide a mystery, Lara forced herself to walk over so she could check over the box nearest her, discovering more ammunition stored inside than she had ever seen in a weapons shop. The detail that truly rubbed it in her face was the the rounded triangle sticker stamped on the side of the crate with Trinity’s insignia on it and she couldn’t refrain from cursing out loud.

“Lara, everything okay?” she heard Sam ask from behind her but before she could answer, a loud _boom_ interrupted her.

“Set the charges. We’re getting through that door no matter what!”

“Shit, hide!” Lara hissed, grabbing Sam by the wrist as she ducked behind a pillar that had fallen over centuries ago, judging by its worn shape, and forcing Sam to do the same.

“Lara, what’s--”

“Trinity. They’re here.”

“Wait, who--”

“Long story. Tell you later.” Lara muttered, looking visibly agitated like a cheetah on the verge of pouncing on its prey.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa, what are you going to do?” Sam whispered, grabbing her wrist to stop her from running off before he knew what her plan was for approaching the situation they were in.

Lara reminded him of Nadine and it wasn't just the accent. She was just as trigger-happy as the ex-Shoreline leader, if not more, and seemed more than willing to snap a man's neck at the drop of a hat if it meant ensuring her own survival. He also quickly realized that Lara had _some serious history_ with these mercenaries, which could be the only possible cause for her jumpiness and _insane_ leap from zero to one-hundred in less than a second.

“We need to take them out,” Lara hissed.

 _“With what?_ We don’t have guns and those guys are packing some serious heat!”

“Would you rather they corner us?”

“N-no, but let’s be smart about this--”

“You want them to get to the treasure first? Because _that’s what’s going to happen_ if we don’t figure out a way to get ahead.”

“I’m telling you, we should have brought guns.”

“Right, that would have worked out _very well_ at the airport!” Lara scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Let’s just not rush to our deaths head-first, okay?”

“Yeah, deal.”

Struck with an idea, Lara motioned for Sam to follow her, both of them treading lightly as they trailed after the two mercenaries who hadn’t walked too far ahead, to their relief. Once they were close enough, Lara gestured to the mercenary on Sam’s right, her partner nodding to show he understood what she wanted him to do, and then they lunged for their targets, quickly choking them out using their weapons before claiming the semi-automatic rifles and any ammunition they found in their pockets for themselves.

“We got guns.”

“Let's go,” Lara whisper-shouted before they continued down the passage, encountering no other Trinity soldiers as they carefully crept by in hopes of avoiding detection because sound seemed to travel far as it echoed against the cave walls and could easily alert to their presence.

“Run something by me?”

“What is it?” Lara asked, looking towards Sam in time to see a tiny bit of concern come to twist itself between his slightly-furrowed eyebrows.

“What's Trinity?”

“You want the long or short version?”

“Short, for now. You can explain everything later when we're not at risk of getting shot in the back.”

“Trinity is or _was_ a fanatical _organization_ , I suppose you could say, that wanted to control the world in any way it can and used its military connections to get whatever it wanted. Last I heard, it was destroyed but… it looks like there’s a few splinter cells that are still active. _Dammit._ ”

“Hey, hey, hey, no worries.”

“Sam, this is _serious_. Trinity could be back and--”

“Lara, you know what they say about bullies, don’t you?”

“What?”

“If you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em,” Sam chuckled, looking far too amused by his little joke and Lara could only grin as she couldn’t agree more.

 _Where have you been all my life?_ she thought giddily as they trudged on, encountering a few more patrols of mercenaries that they quickly dispatch same as they had with the first, miraculously drawing no attention to themselves even though they probably _should have_ just because of a little slip-up like not noticing that pesky third Trinity mercenary lurking right around the corner.

Lara had to admit: she and Sam made a good team and she definitely appreciated his love for history and archeology as well as his resourcefulness in difficult, time-sensitive situations.

“Okay, he won’t be waking up for a few hours,” he said as he stashed the last body behind a pillar that had fallen over long before they had showed up. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Let’s keep going,” she said, and they continued until they found themselves standing before a large door stretching almost ten feet across.

Lara was willing to bet everything on the chance that they had found the Queen of Thorns’ burial chamber. Now, they just had to get in.

“Let’s see… these are the symbols of the four alchemical elements,” Lara commented and as she did, she pointed to each one of the slabs on the wall that seemed to jut out a little more than the other bricks. “Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. It appears as if you can push them but…”

“What’s the order?” Sam finished for her.

“Hard to say…”

“So unless our friends from Trinity are willing to loan us some dynamite, we're stuck out here.”

“Hmm, maybe not.”

“You got an idea?”

“If I recall correctly from my research, the Queen of Thorns was born in the summertime and the elemental equivalent of that is fire,” Lara commented, pushing the brick engraved with the corresponding symbol.

“Great, that's one of four!”

“So if fire connects to summer, then the rest of the elements should, too. Do you know when she died?”

“In the winter. So that must mean…” she trailed off, pointing to another slab that bore a triangle with the point facing down and a line drawn through it and Sam pushed it, only for them to hear another _click_. A good sign, they both thought.

“Okay, that’s two down. Two more to go.”

It didn’t take them long to figure out the order for the last two, Air standing for the queen’s heart and Water representing her kingdom, until the last slab -- Water -- remained.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Sam suggested and Lara did, pushing in the last slab with a triumphant shove. 

 

 

They heard the sound of mechanisms clicking and turning from within the door as it unlocked, only for silence to suddenly fill the air, which prompted the treasure hunters to shoot each other a peculiar look.

When they successfully pushed the door open enough to be able to comfortably squeeze past before it shut behind them with a considerably loud _boom_ , they found themselves standing in a massive, circular room with a raised stone crypt positioned in the center of the room, the cracked stone walls and statues covered in moss and innumerable amounts of dust and dirt, indicating how _ancient_ the tomb really was since it appeared that they were the first ones to have entered it since the tomb had been sealed centuries ago. Despite the years of wear from lack of maintenance, Lara and Sam both stood in quiet awe as they admired the moth-bitten tapestries made of red silk that had faded to a putrid, muted color, the cracked bronze and gold chalices lining the nooks and crannies all over the room, and ancient coins peeking out at them between the cracks in the brick.

As she gingerly pulled one out and weighed it in her palm, Lara quickly realized that the placement had been _intentional_ and hurried over to where Sam stood by the sarcophagus, having gravitated there quicker than she had. 

 _Eyes on the prize,_ she told herself as she pocketed the coin.

The chalices and gold pieces were just icing on the cake but she hoped that the Scepter was inside the coffin. Together, they pushed the heavy stone lid off the crypt with little difficulty until they were able to peer inside, only to feel disappointment wash over them.

“Empty…”

“Damn it!”

“I hope you have cash on you because you owe me a round of drinks!” Sam cackled gleefully.

“Sam, let’s be serious for _one moment_ ,” Lara told him.

“I _am_ being serious.”

“Sam--” Lara started but was suddenly cut off by shouts and a destructive explosion as the door they'd squeezed past was blown to pieces and mercenaries came charging through the door with guns drawn.

“We'll, well, gentlemen, looks like somebody got to the treasure first.”

“Sorry to disappoint you but the treasure isn't here!” Lara sneered at the blonde-haired man who strode in after the mercenaries.

“ _Right_ … well, since you made it here before us, you're going to tell us everything you know,” he leered back at her without missing a beat.

“C'mon, guys, let's just talk this out,” Sam tried to reason as he stepped toward the man in the leather jacket, his hands still up like he expected them to start shooting. Lara had already begun to brace herself in case bullets did start flying but she still couldn't help but fear for Sam's safety.

“You take another step and I'll fill you with bullets,” he threatened as he pointed his gun at Sam, who immediately froze.

With a wave of his hand, two mercenaries stepped forward and handcuffed them with zip ties that bit into their skin and felt much too tight. There was nothing they could do, though, not when the ringleader and at least ten other mercs had their sights trained on them -- a bit overkill, Lara thought, but who was she to negotiate with psychopaths? -- and fingers curled around their triggers, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

“You might as well put your guns away… unless you're scared.”

“Get moving.”

“Hey, guys, take it easy! We’re all friends here, right?” Sam yelped as the mercenary nearest him shoved him forward using the butt of his machine gun.

Lara could only follow quietly but found herself wracking her brain for solutions and wayouts, hoping that an opportunity to run away to freedom would present itself just long enough to allow her to grab a gun and gain the upper hand. The number of mercenaries didn’t intimidate her so much as being unarmed did but she couldn’t do anything except keep pace with Sam as they were led out of the cave like naughty children who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

She couldn’t help but squint at the sudden flood of light that hit her eyes as they were forced towards the edge of the cliff several feet from the mouth of the cave. The lack of space between their feet and the edge unnerved Lara and from the look on Sam’s face, he looked just as apprehensive if not more but there wasn’t much they could do besides hope that the mercs wouldn’t shove them to their deaths.

“I’ve been thinking: you might think you’re slick but you stole my lead, took out my men, and act as if you own the place and from where I come from, that’s called trespassing,” she heard the ringleader comment behind her.

“It’s not trespassing if I got here first,” she spat viciously as she whirled around to face him, poison practically dripping from her lips and eyes fixed into such a harsh glare that she found herself wishing looks could kill.

“Maybe so. To be fair, it’s not like anybody plays nice in this business.”

 _Nobody ever does,_ Lara thought, recalling all of her adventures and how there had always been somebody -- a few people who came to mind off the top of her head were Doctor Whitman, Konstantin, and Anna -- desperate to obtain something they desired by any means necessary, even if it involved risking other people’s lives or ending them. _But I’m used to it._

“Or maybe you’re just getting soft, Crofty. Why don’t you prove me wrong?” the man chuckled.

Something about the way he uttered _Crofty_ sounded so different from the way Sam had said it, his tone mocking like he expected her to feel ashamed of the nickname that had become now permanently soured and was no longer something she could happily expect to hear from Sam without being reminded of Trinity.

With a wave of his hand, Lara found her wrists had been freed from the shackles that previously held her and warily, she climbed to her feet, glaring holes into his forehead all the while.

The way he carried himself with macho and bravado unnerved Lara and left her with a bad taste in her mouth she couldn’t be rid of even when she tried to swallow down the bile rising up in her throat. His weathered features and proud, smug smile hid all of the terrible crimes he was no doubt capable of committing at the drop of a hat and with her hands still tied behind her back, he unfortunately held all of the power over the situation. Still, Lara refused to allow herself to be intimidated and she spat out,

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“Me? I'm Chase Carver: treasure hunter, mercenary, and smuggler. I'm looking for the Scepter of Deceit and I'm pretty sure you're not here just because you wanted to do some sightseeing, am I right? No, you're looking for the Scepter, too.”

_Damn, he catches on quick._

“Tell you what: I’ve got a proposition for you. You tell me if you like it.”

“What is it?” Lara asked after a few moments of hesitation.

“You can run away and live to fight another day, if you like.”

“And what, you'll just let me leave just like that? How do I know you won't shoot me in the back as I try to leave?”

“You catch on quick, Crofty, but you're wrong about one thing.”

“And what's that?”

“You’re going to have to fight your way out. That is, if you can manage such a thing without a weapon.”

 _He's taunting you, Lara. Don't let him get to you_ , she told herself as she warily climbed to her feet, her stance apprehensive and weight mostly on her toes so that, the second she sensed an opportunity, she would lunge for Chase or one of the mercenaries for their guns. Or break off running if they started shooting.

“So you’re just going to let us go?”

She spared a quick glance at Sam before locking eyes with Chase, determination bubbling in her chest as she racked her brain for a solution that could get them both out of this awful, sticky situation without getting them shot. The mercs had their fingers curled around the triggers of their guns, ready to fire at the drop of a pin or at Chase’s orders, whichever came first.

Her fingers twitched for her climbing axe, which had been ripped off her belt and now sat on a nearby ammo crate that was still too far for Lara, and she _craved_ to hold it in her hands and bury the sharp end into every single one of the mercs’ skulls -- starting with Chase.

 _Just wait ‘til I get my hands around your neck,_ she quietly threatened, glaring daggers into Chase’s forehead in hopes that it would be a good start to getting her revenge on him.

“What? No, no, no, your friend Sam is on his own,” Chase chuckled, sounding awfully amused for somebody who looked seconds away from grabbing the gun holstered at his belt and shooting them both dead.

“Hey, you hang on a goddamned second--” Sam tried to interject, only to be met with a swift punch to the face that sent him tumbling onto the deck with a heavy, sickening _thump_ that made Lara's blood run cold.

“Sam!”

“ _Like I said_ , you’re on your own, Crofty.”

To her surprise, he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing her by the neck as he lifted her off her feet and carried her over to the edge of the cliff, the feeling of weightlessness combined with the sudden, lightheaded feeling that had her gasping like she was drowning. Dark spots danced in her vision and every breath that painfully escaped her lungs felt worse than the last as no amount of clawing at Chase’s face or kicking at him in hopes that she’d hit him hard enough to break free and grab a weapon to defend herself. 

 _It’s no use_ , she quickly realized, because the more she writhed, the tighter Chase's gloved grip got.

“A tomb raider as talented as yourself is good at a lot of things but I wonder… can you fly?”

The last thing Lara saw before she felt her body lurch back as she was shoved away like a ragdoll was Chase’s face and heard somebody somebody screaming “No-no-no-no-no! Lara!” before the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a LOT of trouble posting this chapter and I don't really know why, although I suspect that maybe it had something to do with the alchemical symbols for Fire, Earth, Air, and Water (the symbols were arranged in that order), which are unicode. I heard that AO3 doesn't do a really good job of processing those symbols sooo I had to embed the four symbols as a picture instead buuut it's better than nothing. :)
> 
> As you may have noticed, Trinity in this story is a splinter cell since they no longer exist as a full-fledged organization in the reboot. That's the only detail I spoiled for myself from Shadow of the Tomb Raider, mostly for the sake of this story, but please don't post any spoilers because that'll make me really sad. :(
> 
> And rather than create an OC bad guy, I decided to use Chase Carver from the comics for that purpose because why not? He certainly fits the part :) 
> 
> On the bright side, I decided to splurge some of my birthday money and SOTY arrived in the mail today. I'm gonna start playing when I have time. :)
> 
> Alsooo, I love comments so please leave some! Thanks! ♥


	3. Scars of the Mind

“What in God's name happened? And where's Lara?”

“Gone, Sully,” Sam replied heavily. “She's gone.”

He couldn’t believe it -- _didn’t_ want to believe it -- but all he could see was that bastard effortlessly tossing her off the cliff like she weighed nothing and then walking back into the cave with his mercs trailing after him, having completely forgotten about him as soon as Lara had been dealt with. They barely spared him another glance once Lara had been _thrown away_ and a few hours and a pack of cigarettes later, Sam still couldn’t bring himself to relax so he could organize his thoughts.

Sam felt so much rushing at him all at once -- disappointment, shock, disbelief, anger, borderline-psychotic rage -- with the reason behind his anger being Lara and that damn mercenary. In the likelihood that she was dead, no amount of praying to God for her survival would be able to bring her back safe and sound and if she was still alive by some miracle, there was no way she hadn't sustained injuries, including but not limited to broken bones or even worse, a broken neck.

All he knew was that he needed to find her and fast, as time was of the essence.

“So… there’s a chance she’s dead,” he heard Sully call from behind him, his voice barely audible over the sound of undergrowth crunching beneath their boots.

“ _No_ , don’t say that! She can’t be dead,” Sam protested, absolutely horrified by the suggestion.

“Sam, she fell at least twenty feet. If she’s alive, she’s probably going to need serious medical attention,” Sully pointed out to him, ever the voice of reason even though it was obvious that he didn’t want to be. “With her injuries, we're looking for a body, not a survivor.”

“Let’s just find her first, okay? There’s still a chance--”

“What about the Scepter?”

“No, I’m not thinking about that right now! We need to find Lara!”

“Do you have something for this girl?”

“Whatever do you mean, Victor?” Sam asked in exasperation. The most important thing right now was finding Lara and even as they trudged through thick jungle that couldn't possibly be drive over with a Jeep, Lara was the only thing on his mind, leaving little room for anything else.

“Think about it: she's one of the only woman you've met who appreciates archeology -- hell, she knows way more than you do on any topic, that's for sure -- and doesn’t give in to your phony attempts to woo her.”

“I barely flirted with her!”

“The hell you were!”

“Honestly, Victor, you seem way overprotective of her.”

“That's because I've known her since she was a kid. I can still remember when she ran up to Roth in her purple penguin pajamas at a dig site and showed him a pendant she dig up.”

“Purple penguin pajamas? Seriously?” Sam chuckled in amusement.

He couldn't help but imagine Lara at the tender age of ten or eleven years with her hair pulled back into her trademark ponytail, bangs flying every which way in the wind, as she ran up to her father with her latest find. She had to have been the cutest kid in the whole world and that cuteness had transformed into breathtaking beauty that even left Sam in awe and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Seriously. Lara’s had a natural talent for archeology since she was old enough to read.”

“I bet her dad’s real proud of her.”

“Her father died when she was young,” Sully pointed out matter-of-factly.

“Then, what about that… Roth guy?”

“Oh, Conrad Roth?”

“Yeah. You knew him?”

“He was a real crazy son of a bitch, that's for sure. Always had his eyes on the prize but never got so greedy that he left his partners behind. That’s what set him apart from the rest of the dirty bastards we ran with.”

“Ah, always interested in the climax. I can see why you were such good friends.”

“He was a damn good father to Lara, too. Better than Richard Croft could ever hope to be but that’s really none of my business and don’t you dare bring it up with Lara.”

“So daddy dearest really was daddy dearest?’

“You could say that.”

“Well, let’s keep looking,” Sam said, hoping to shift the topic to something a little less depressing than Richard Croft. Worrying about Lara’s condition wasn’t much better but at least worrying about her odds of survival and finding her before Trinity did was better than occupying his time with a dead man and neglectful, poor excuse of a father.

_Please be okay, Lara._

 

♦♦♦

 

_It’s getting late. I should try to find some shelter._

The sun was setting too quickly for her liking, casting long, winding shadows across the forest floor and turning it dark even though there was still daylight out. At the rate it was going, night would fall and she needed someplace _safe_ to gather her bearings and get some rest until morning came. Getting stuck in the middle of a dark, unfamiliar forest and being _weaponless_ on top of her wounded leg and aching bones would only add insult to injury and she had no plans of making such an _amateur_ mistake even with all the injuries she’d sustained.

Then again, she couldn’t imagine things getting any worse than waking up at the base of a cliff in immense pain with a leg that couldn’t be considered completely intact, especially considering how much it hurt just to lean her weight on it.

 _My leg should be fine if I can decent get medical attention in the next seventy-two hours,_ she thought, sparing a quick glance at her splinted leg, two sturdy, wooden sticks tied securely by shreds of cloth she’d torn from her pants and after deeming it sturdy enough to support her otherwise wobbly leg, which was going to be next to useless for climbing.

It wasn’t like she planned on scaling any cliffs anytime soon.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lara suddenly spotted a flash of movement from behind the tall brush and managed to shift her weight in time to find herself face to face with a tall, slender man in his forties and another man who was older and somewhat shorter, dressed in a red Hawaiian shirt that was buttoned up compared to his taller counterpart, who wore a white wife beater underneath his blue shirt, which was unbuttoned.

“Who are you?” Lara demanded, eyeing the man suspiciously even as he raised his arms up in surrender. Her fingers twitched for her climbing axe but she hadn’t packed it with her, having hoped that her mission would be a quick drop.

But of course, nothing was ever that simple.

“Lara! Holy shit, you’re alive!”

“Wait--”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong: I’m happy to see you’re okay but shit… you took a nasty fall back and I’m surprised you’re still kicking--”

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve confused me for somebody else,” she apologized when she sensed an opening to correct the man.

She watched a cigarette escape the confines of the carton sitting in the breast pocket of his shirt and find its way between his lips, his hands cupped around his lighter to prevent the flame from dying out as a sudden gust of warm wind blew by, tousling their hair and relieving Lara of the slightly sticky feeling that had overcome her. Nicotine and smoke flooded the air and even though something about it was _so familiar,_ she couldn’t quite place her finger on it and she wished she could place where she remembered the man standing before her. It was the only thing keeping her from slamming his face into the ground besides the fact that nobody else was around and she could easily take him despite being much shorter and leaner.

He took a long drag of his cigarette and after he blew out the smoke, thin tendrils wafting around his face as he opened his mouth to speak and when he did, she was more taken aback by what came tumbling out of his mouth than his casual attitude or the smoke that billowed out of his nostrils.

“Lara, c’mon, quit playing games.”

“Who are you?” she demanded, enunciating each syllable as she eyed the man suspiciously even as he raised his arms up in surrender. Her fingers twitched for her climbing axe but it was absent from where she usually kept it at her waist, finding only a broken belt loop where her melee weapon of choice was supposed to be.

This was the first time she had noticed the broken belt loop. It didn’t make sense, she thought as she rubbed the top half of the belt loop that had somehow… _snapped_. That wasn’t the most important issue at hand right now, though, but it definitely unnerved her.

“How do you know my name?” she seethed.

“Whoa, just relax.”

“You’re not with Trinity, are you?”

Even in the fading light of day, she could see that he wasn’t dressed like _one of those men_ she’d seen in her dreams, clad in slacks and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt with a white wife-beater underneath and covered from head-to-toe in dirt like she was rather than a ghillie suit and armed to the teeth like mercenaries were known to be, looking almost as if he was a tourist who had gotten lost. But judging by the way he gazed at her with such familiarity, as if they knew each other from before, told her that he couldn’t possibly be one of those psychopaths but that he wasn’t a tourist either.

“What? No, I’m not! Lara, just calm down--”

“No, not until you tell me what’s going on! Starting with how you know my name!”

“Shit… you mean you really don’t remember?”

“ _What_ are you talking about?” Now it was Lara’s turn to huff in frustration. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here!”

“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” the man asked her and before she could respond, he pulled out a pistol and fired.

Stunned, Lara could only stare at him in shock for a few moments before she dared look down upon feeling something warm and wet seeping into her tank top, only to watch in horror as a dark red patch stretched across her stomach and soaked her cargo pants as well. The wound began to painfully throb, seemingly worsening by the minute, to the point that Lara couldn’t hold back soft gasps of pain.

 _At this rate, I’m going to bleed out,_ she realized grimly.

“Lights out, Lara,” he taunted and before she could turn and run, he fired his weapon over and over and over and--

“Shit!”

Lara awoke with a gasp, shooting up into a seated position so quickly that she nearly got whiplash and only worsened how badly her lungs _burned_ for oxygen and consciousness granted her little mercy because, even as she scrambled off her makeshift bed on the couch in her father’s study and out into the hallway, she couldn’t escape the man that had been standing at the foot of her bed from the moment she woke up. She found she couldn’t run fast enough to escape him because, despite walking at a normal pace, he managed to catch up to her without breaking a sweat. Multiple faces shifted across the blank slate before her at such a rapid speed before finally settling for the rugged, sun-worn features of a blonde man with cold, steely eyes that mockingly stared right through her.

His lips moved, forming words she could not hear but that quickly became apparent to her with some skillful lip-reading.

_“Maybe you’re just getting soft, Crofty. Why don’t you prove me wrong?”_

“I will. Just you wait, coward,” she growled at the apparition, who faded away as he strode around the stairwell and started his way down the steps down to the foyer.

_“I’ll be waiting.”_

Now that she stood alone in the hallway overlooking the foyer below, Lara couldn't help but delve deeper into the entanglement of thoughts brewing in her head, where foggy memories and a name -- _Sam_ \-- echoed endlessly until it felt like a hammer striking her skull over and over again.

Ever since she arrived home two weeks ago in a haze, her memories had started twisting themselves into gnarled, angry monsters that haunted her nightmares and made it difficult to get enough sleep at night with that name echoing in her head. Her father's study was in a state of complete disarray, papers scattered all over his desk and books that she vaguely remembered reading stacked on the office chair and on the floor in multiple piles and with how bedraggled she felt at the moment, it was the one place in Croft Manor she wanted to avoid until she felt more awake and could think straight.

As of right now, there was nothing more she wanted than to go downstairs into the cellar and fetch something _strong_ to drink to drown out the plethora of voices echoing in her head but a sudden spell of dizziness overcame her and Lara slid down to the floor just as her legs gave out.

 _I've been so out of touch lately,_ she thought, peering down the hallway and scowling at the mess on her father's desk from where she sat with her back pressed to the railing with disdain. _I don’t even know why._

Lara was given little time to ponder because, before she could even think about climbing to her feet, she heard the doorbell, which gonged through the empty manor with a _ding-dong_ that felt almost deafening, and scrambled to her feet to answer the door even though she wasn’t expecting anybody. At worst, it was a door-to-door salesman trying to solicit something -- did those even exist anymore? -- and at best, it was somebody she knew who had come to see her.

“O-oh, hello, Victor!” she chirped when she opened the door and found the Hawaiian shirt-wearing, Cuban cigar-smoking American standing on the doorstep.

He looked good, she observed enviously, like he had just returned from a relaxing cruise or vacation. To be fair, the fact that he probably hadn’t woken up in a forest two weeks ago like she had probably helped. She didn’t doubt that he had his fair share of rough experiences but between the two of them, she definitely had it worse right now at this very minute.

“Lara, it’s great to see you! I’ve been trying to reach you but you haven't been answering any of my calls. Figured I’d try and see you in person.”

“O-oh, right… sorry, I’ve just been trying to readjust since I got back.”

“I see. Well, how are you doing, kiddo?”

“Could be better. Would you like to come in, Victor? I apologize for being so inhospitable--”

“It’s okay. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

“We?”

Before Sully could respond, Lara spotted movement from behind him as another man of a tall build and slender frame emerged from where he’d been standing just out of her field of sight, dressed in a white wife beater and a denim jacket with cream-colored lambskin lining the collar and the name _Sam_ began to echo in her head, bouncing against her cranium louder and louder until she was sure she would topple over and crack her head open right on the cobblestone doorstep under Sully’s feet.

“It’s you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The interaction between Sam and Lara when they reunite (prior to Lara getting shot) is actually a nightmare Lara's experiencing. Just wanted to clear that up just in case it didn't make sense. :')
> 
> Also, I'm going to try and update this fic more often so that it doesn't drag on for years haha but we'll see. ;)


	4. Once A Thief, Always A Thief

There was no telling how much toner had been used to print out all of the articles and newspapers that lay strewn all over the floor in front of her, all of them bearing bold headlines that, with some, slight variations, read  _ Long-Lost Artifact Bought By Private Collector _ . Other newspapers Lara had laid out even dared go so far as to speculate  _ who _ had bought the artifact in question and _ why _ . Even if all of the evidence suggested that it was the Scepter, no insiders were willing to admit it and the public would have to accept that they would remain in the dark unless, by some miracle, the information they craved got leaked.

Thus, Lara, Sam, and Sully only had their gut instinct to depend on. And a little extra outside help from one of Lara’s many friends that happened to live in high and low places.

One of the letters, if the postcard she’d received in an envelope could even be called that, had been mailed to her by one of her father’s contacts based in Italy had a picture of the Colosseum told her more about what was happening down there than the short note on the back ever could.

_ Perhaps a picture really is worth a thousand words, _ Lara thought as she flipped over to the back, where her father’s contact had scribbled out a quick message in his delicate cursive.

  
  


> _ Rumor has it that Gianna Rossi will be placing some pretty valuable items at auction in Italy. The location, as you probably guessed, has been set for the Rossi Estate. Your scepter might be one of them but can’t be sure. Haven’t been able to scrounge up any further details. Sorry, Lara, that was the best I could do. _
> 
>  
> 
> _ \- A. Fletcher _

  
  


“The Rossi Estate, huh? I’ve been there a few times myself. Could tell you stories,” Sam commented as he casually read the note over her shoulder and earned an exasperated look from the tomb raider herself before she strode over to her father’s desk and left Sam looking sheepish where he stood in the entryway.

_ She doesn’t take bait that easily. _

“Lara, don’t listen to him. He only went there once,” Sully interjected, looking wholly unimpressed while he smoked his cigar with a disdainful look that was clearly directed towards Sam. His look of disdain only added salt to the treasure hunter’s wounds.

“Really, now? Then you must be familiar with the place,” Lara commented, though Sam felt that she was mocking him and the fact that she made no effort to hide it only added insult to injury.

“And I thought things went well!” he couldn't help but protest, albeit sheepishly.

“Sam, the ‘last time’ you were there, you and Nathan made such a mess that I'm not sure if they'll let you in a second time without shooting you on sight.”

“I'm sure I can get us in and out of there without a single guard firing a bullet,” Lara interjected, hoping to placate her partners before they started shooting each other out of spite.

They didn't have guns on hand, not as far as she knew, but that certainly wouldn't hold them back if they were determined enough.

“Let me make a few calls and if everything goes according to plan, we'll be dining with high-class criminals at the Rossi Estate by tomorrow evening.”

Sure enough, they found themselves landing in Italy in time for the auction and Lara, not to be intimidated by the women at high society who were sure to be present by any means, had donned an evening gown made of black satin that trailed down to her knees, had a skirt that naturally fluffed out because of its frills, and clung to her in all the right places, which was something that didn’t go unnoticed with Sam. The tease of her heart-shaped neckline only made it more difficult to keep his eyes off her.

In true Lara-like fashion, she had donned her trademark ponytail but it had more of a wave to it and looked much cleaner, like she had spent some time in front of a mirror with a curling iron and hair brush. Looking as good as she did, she could have very well walked right through the door without getting stopped.

Unfortunately, Sam was a flight risk given his last escapade at the Rossi Estate and rather than get shot before they got what they came for, they had elected to find another way in.

“Victor’s already inside and the auction isn’t starting for another hour or so, which gives us just enough time to sneak in, mingle a bit, and then steal the artifact and leave before anybody realizes we took it.”

“That’s great to hear but… so, uh… how's your leg?” Sam asked, mostly in hopes of occupying the air with some kind of conversation rather than allow silence to hang over them, especially since he didn’t know what else to say in response to Lara’s statement. They currently stood on the cliffside overlooking the mansion just across the water and although it was peacefully silent save for the crashing of waves against the cliffside, it felt eerily quiet between the two of them.

He hadn’t been expecting Lara to dish about everything that happened to her two weeks ago but she seemed almost dismissive of what had happened to her and hadn’t brought it up even when he accompanied Sully to check on her.

And sure, the treasure hunting business consisted of close calls and frequent brushes with death but Sam would have been a liar if he said he had gotten used to it. The thrill of recovering priceless treasure made up for it and even more so when the payout was phenomenal and when it wasn’t, it just felt like another pointless suicide mission fueled by greed and was only made worse when scumbags like Chase Carver, Trinity, Shoreline, and anybody else of their ilk ruined the fun.

“It's doing better than two weeks ago, that's for sure. Good enough to go rappelling through the air or climbing mountains,” Lara replied coolly.

“How'd you hurt it?” Sam asked, feigning innocence even though his skin bristled at the memory of that bastard Chase Carver throwing her over the cliff like he was tossing out the garbage. The fact that it was  _ that easy _ for him to just throw her to her death, minus the death. By some miracle, she was still alive and Sam wasn’t sure if he ought to be relieved or concerned or maybe even a bit of both.

“Woke up at the bottom of a cliff and all I remember is my whole body hurting like  _ hell _ .”

“You can't remember anything else?”

“No, not really. Can't remember much of what happened from the past two weeks other than I woke up in a corner of France I've never been to before and not knowing why I was there in the first place.”

“Do you… remember me?”

“I do,” Lara insisted. Her knotted eyebrows made her look distressed, almost like she was trying to figure out  _ exactly where _ she knew him from and added only insult to injury that she didn't quite remember Sam as well as he'd hoped.

She obviously remembered Sully, he thought bitterly, but why wouldn't she? Compared to him, Sully had been in her life since she was a kid and not being able to remember two weeks out of her entire life wouldn’t affect her rock-solid friendship with the old man.

As for Sam, he knew he couldn't have mattered less to her than any stranger on the street.

“We're looking for… the Scepter,” she finally answered after some difficulty spent digging through whatever fragments remained of her memories of France and even then, Sam didn't feel comforted by her response.

“Yeah, that's right,” he weakly affirmed.

_ Why do you like her, Sam? Are you just lusting after her in hopes that she'll give you a good time or, what, do you want something more? Hell, she's way out of your league and way too young and pretty and smart for you all at the same time,  _ the voice in his head taunted, sounding a little too much like Sully for his liking. Unfortunately, his fellow, Cuban cigar-smoking treasure hunter wasn't around and good thing, too, because Sam wasn't sure if he could have stayed cool without punching him out for no other reason than that his inner thoughts sounded like him.

_ She's definitely not interested in a relationship.  _

That much was obvious just from the way that she carried herself like she didn't need anybody but herself. Clearly, somewhere in her life, she had learned to be her own support when she couldn’t depend on it from others and it seemed to cling to her to this day like a suit of armor she couldn’t shake off.

_ And she's way too dangerous to have a fling with.  _

By dangerous, he was referring to her prowess with weapons and shameless bloodthirst whenever she found herself in a situation that called for action. 

She would have no qualms about filling him with bullet holes if he hurt her feelings or pissed her off to a point where she'd go off on him until she ran out of bullets or got bored and moved onto her next weapon of choice, whatever it happened to be.

That just made her so much more desirable, unfortunately.

“Sorry,” she apologized, sounding and appearing genuine. “I feel bad for not remembering much about you but I really do want to get to know you. Perhaps when this is all over?”

“You don't strike me as a coffee shop kind of girl,” Sam teased playfully, and seeing Lara grin so easily in response made all of the tension between them wash away like water rushing freely from a stream.

“There's plenty of ruins to explore out in the world. Perhaps you can impress me then?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Crofty.”

_ “Maybe you’re just getting soft, Crofty. Why don’t you prove me wrong?” _

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Lara insisted, snapping out of her daze. She forced herself to focus on Sam’s features to get some grounding, paying close attention to the way that his sharp nose barely had a slope to it and his brown hair, casually swept back, suited him surprisingly well. It was more comforting to look at than give attention to the blonde-haired ghost that stalked her nightmares and taunted her at every twist and turn.

Sam and Sully were familiar enough to her to provide some sense of calm amidst the madness and if she and Chase happened across each other’s paths again, she planned to get back at him for everything, if given the chance.

“You look like you got lost somewhere. Something on your mind?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said, quickly deflecting Sam’s worried prods as she turned her attention back to her jumpsuit, zipping it up to protect her dress underneath once she’d folded the skirt to sit against her body to prevent wrinkling. Even then, any wrinkles wouldn’t be noticeable on a dress she didn’t plan on wearing longer than a few hours.

“Lara--”

“Sam, we’ve got an artifact to steal,” she pointedly reminded him and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay… wasting time, I got it.”

It didn’t take long for them to scale the estate, cross the expansive garden, and climb through a window that had been left open, courtesy of Sully, with whom they quickly reunited. And even with all the dust on her boots, Lara easily brushing it off using the corner of her jumpsuit before tossing it out the window onto the porch where it would remain out of sight and silently thanking herself for having greased them the night before, she walked with purpose and there was no way anybody would have thought anything of her  _ rebellious  _ fashion choice, not when they were far too stuck up from their pompous egos to think much of her.

“Know what I love about partying with a bunch of crooks?” Sully chuckled, proudly holding a smoking Cuban cigar between his fingers.

“Oh, what’s that?” Lara asked with a tiny laugh.

“Nobody cares if you smoke indoors.”

“Well, that’s definitely a perk.”

“Ready to scout the place out?”

“Might as well.”

“Let’s hope you do better this time with Lara than you did last time with Nate,” Sully commented, sending a clear jab Sam’s way as they all strode out into the second floor hallway overlooking the ballroom down below.

“At least Rafe’s not here.”

“Good thing, too. He was ready to kill me and he would have done it, too, if given the chance.”

“Fortunately for us, he’s dead.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“My contact said that there’s plenty of artifacts going on auction and if their information is accurate, I believe everything is being stored in the archives room,” Lara informed her partners as she laid out a blueprint of the estate that had been courteously drawn out for her onto the table and properly labeled so that they knew  _ exactly _ where to go without wasting any more time than necessary.

If the blueprints were correct, the archives room was in the left wing, right down the hall from where they stood.

“It’s bound to be locked, most likely even guarded.”

“My thoughts exactly. We’ll need to think of a diversion before we head into the archives.”

“Let’s get into the archives first. Any ideas?”

As Sam said this, Lara spotted a sommelier stride past them at a leisurely pace as he went downstairs to mingle with the crowd closer to the center of the ballroom. Hanging off one of the belt loops of his pants was a key ring that had several shiny keys colored silver and gold, which rattled around the the large metal hoop they were looped through, and Lara knew it was their best option to go on.

“We’ve got to get that key ring.”

“Deja vu.” 

“Do I want to know?”

“I’ll explain later. Shall I do the honors?” Sam asked, though it sounded more like he was making an offer for something that he desperately wanted to do rather than asking out of courtesy in case Lara was itching to search the man’s pockets.

“I hope you’re good at pickpocketing.”

“Good? Please, I showed my brother Nathan the ropes,” Sam scoffed lightly, which was enough to convince Lara to swallow her pride and assume the role of seductress long enough to get them into the restricted areas of the estate and hopefully, into the archive where the artifacts were being kept since there was still another good half hour before the auction began.

“Let’s keep in radio contact, just in case,” Sully suggested, holding out three earpieces and taking one for himself. Likewise, Lara and Sam each took one for themselves and fitted them into their ears.

“Right. Now… I’ll distract the sommelier.”

“Lay on the charm and I’ll do the rest, gorgeous.”

_ Was that supposed to be reassuring? _ Lara asked herself as she attempted to make her way through the crowd of people and over to the sommelier as calmly as she could, though she was sure that her burning cheeks were red as tomatoes and that the light makeup she’d put on prior to stepping out onto the banquet hall couldn’t possibly cover her embarrassment.

_ I guess it’ll have to do _ , she thought as she tapped on the sommelier’s shoulder to get his attention and flashed him a warm smile before she put on the best aristocratic voice she could before she said, “Excuse me, sir, I’m looking to settle a dispute with a friend of mine and wanted to ask you for your opinion. My friend, you see, claims that all wines are starting to taste the same and… would you say this is true?”

It took every ounce of willpower she had to present herself as being wholly interested in what the man was babbling about in hopes that he would continue talking, hopefully to at least partially inflate his own ego, and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Sam come up behind the sommelier but made sure to focus on the man she was speaking to as to not blow her partner’s cover and waited until Sam had returned to the empty table near the back of the banquet hall before she thanked him for his time and walked off.

“Got it?” she asked upon returning to her partner.

“Piece of cake. Ready to go?”

She motioned him to follow her and when they were sure nobody was looking, they slipped upstairs and strode down a rather isolated hallway until they spotted a set of double doors with a plaque nailed to both doors that was labeled  _ Archives _ up ahead. Unfortunately, there was a guard posted at the door and despite having donned a suit similar to Sam and the rest of the male partygoers, he made no secret of the semi-automatic pistol that was holstered at his waist.

“What do we do?”

“I’ll deal with him,” Sam offered, only for Lara to grab him by the arm to stop him, worry present in her eyes.

“What if he recognizes you?”

“Relax, it’s fine. Just get in the archives and see what you can find, okay? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“No, Sam, that’s a bad idea.”

“We’re running out of time so what do you suggest we do?”

“Alright… just be careful,” she begged him as she let him go, taking the keys from him just as she assumed cover once more to hide from sight until the guard was distracted, whatever that meant.

Sure enough, she got her answer when she heard Sam speaking to the guard in Italian and said man barking orders back at him. Lara dashed out from behind cover despite her instincts telling her that her presence would only make things worse and emerged in time to see the guard go down with a loud  _ thump  _ and Sam standing over his unconscious body with a smug grin on his face.

“Piece of cake.”

“Had me worried.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Now, come on, let’s get in and get out before anybody realizes what we’re doing.”

At this, Lara began to try out the keys in hopes that one of them would get them through the door but one right after another, they came up dry.

“It was worth a shot,” she said in an attempt to placate Sam once they’d tried turning every key in every possible direction, though it did little to sooth his irritation.

“So what now? Any ideas?”

“Keep an eye out,” Lara ordered Sam as she withdrew her lockpicking set from her boot and fiddled with the lock, carefully moving the picks until she heard a faint  _ click  _ as the tumblers fell into place and the door handle turned without experiencing any resistance from the lock itself.

“Come on,” Lara whispered as she promptly pushed her way inside and quietly shut the door behind her once she and Sam had both slipped inside along with the body of the guard, which they stashed on the floor behind a formidably large display case protecting seemingly hundreds of coins from different European eras.

But as pretty as they were, they hadn’t broken in to gawk at all the pretty relics.

“Well, well, well, didn’t know you had that trick up your sleeve. What other secrets are you keeping from me?”

“I might have a few.”

“Care to share?”

“Maybe later, once we’ve got the artifact in our hands. We should try to stay one step ahead of Trinity as much as possible.”

“Right, right. I’ll check over here,” Sam offered as he stepped over to the left side of the room, where the display cases were much more massive and featured a tall, colorful totem carved from wood in one case, Cherokee in origin, and a carving of a ram or a bull engraved from stone in another, most likely from the Neolithic period.

Both cases had little placards sitting inside the glass that read  _ Rossi Private Collection _ and it irritated Sam for no reason other than it was pompous even though private collectors were exactly the kind of people he sold artifacts to.

_ Guess I just don’t like the Rossis,  _ he mused. The place alone brought up some… unpleasant memories and he couldn’t wait to get out.

“The Scepter isn't here but I think we've uncovered another piece of the puzzle,” Lara announced, breaking the silence.

“Oh yeah? What’d you find?”

“There’s an inscription on the placard here that reads: ‘when the skies turn red, the scepter and crown shall bind a soul together.’ I believe it’s referring to the Queen’s regalia.”

“You think the crown in the riddle is referring to a physical crown?”

“Yes, I'm sure of it. Unfortunately, we’re too late. The crown isn’t here,” Lara sighed dejectedly as she gestured to the empty display case in front of her. Still, she took a moment to snap a photo of the placard for safekeeping, figuring it was better than nothing.

“You think it’s already gone down to auction?”

“The auction hasn’t started yet, has it?” Lara asked but as they made their way to the door, intent on joining the rest of the partygoers downstairs, they heard screams and shouts amidst the shattering of glass.

It sounded  _ so loud _ , so much louder than somebody accidentally dropping and breaking a wine glass that Lara couldn’t help but think the worst.

“Shit, what was that?”

“Here, take this!” Sam pushed a pistol into Lara’s hands and although the weight of the gun in her hand was comforting, she couldn’t ignore the fear she felt from it having just appeared  _ out of nowhere. _

“Sam, where the hell did you get this?”

“It’s just in case, okay?” he insisted as he grabbed the gun off the unconscious guard and cocked it after checking to see that it was loaded, which it was. 

_ “Hey, Lara--” _ Sully started, only to be cut off by static that grated on Lara’s ears and caused her to wince.

“Victor? Is everything alright?” Lara called, only to receive more static in response. She threw a worried look Sam’s way and with her head, motioned him to follow her out into the hallway as she eased the door open.

“Think he’s okay?”

“I don’t know,” she replied warily. A quick glance out into the hallway allowed her to see that the coast was clear and upon deeming it safe, Lara and Sam stepped out of the archives room and carefully trudged back to the ballroom. 

_ “Trinity’s here. They’re going to steal the crown,” _ Sully announced, his voice piercing the air and causing Lara and Sam to breathe out a sigh of relief now that they knew he was okay.

“Victor, get out of there,” Sam ordered.

_ “What are you going to do?” _

“We’ll think of something.”

_ “Alright… just don’t get yourselves killed.” _

“So what’s the plan?”

“We get the crown even if we have to mow down those bastards--”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa… don’t just go rushing in there, you’ll get killed.”

“Sam, if I don’t get to the crown first, Trinity is going to be one step ahead of us and we can’t let that happen!”

“I know, I know,” he tried to soothe even though Lara was clearly chomping at the bit to get the crown and, if he hadn’t stopped her, Sam knew she probably would have run ahead and leapt right over the balcony rail into the ballroom below just so she could grab the crown that was no doubt on display at this very moment.

“We’re wasting time!”

“Let’s first figure out where the crown is, okay? Then you can get all shooty-shooty if that’s what your heart desires.”

“I need your help--”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover you. Just… don’t get yourself killed,” he said, though it felt like he was begging her to not throw herself into the fray without thinking. The way she cocked her gun with purpose, eyes glimmering with something  _ ferocious _ , unnerved and excited him at the same time.

“Ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Lights Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at chapter titles ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The crown sat in a display case near the auctioneer's podium, its purple, iridescent jewels shifting and glittering against the sunlight filtering in through the windows like the sparkly, white-gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. And were it not for the chaos in the ballroom, it would have been lovely to admire but there would be time for that later, _after_ they seized the artifact and got the hell out of Dodge.

Sully was waiting for them out front in a car, ready to drive off at a moment’s notice once they seized the crown, but they still hadn’t fulfilled their end of the bargain. At least, _not yet_.

“Alright, here’s a suggestion: how about we let the rent-a-thugs deal with Trinity while we go after the crown?” Sam started to suggest, only to be cut off by gunfire mid-sentence when one of the Trinity goons fired his gun straight at the ceiling, riddling it with bullet holes and sending little flakes of plaster fluttering down into the ballroom below.

“Okay, new plan: I’ll cover you.”

Without wasting another moment, Lara flung herself over the railing and Sam could only watch in a mixture of awe and muted horror as she plummeted down below without suffering a bit of damage and took down a Trinity grunt in the process, knocking him down to the floor and stealing his weapon in one fell swoop. When he tried to get back up, she quickly dispatched him by smacking him in the skull with the butt of her gun and then made a mad dash for the display cases on the other side of the ballroom. Sam watched in awe as she scrambled past soldiers and dodged every single one of their attacks with a finesse only granted to gazelles--

 _Dammit, Sam! Less staring, more shooting!_ he silently reprimanded himself, firing off a couple of shots at a Trinity grunt who had taken to chasing after her and downing him when he managed to shoot him through the shoulder.

It wouldn’t incapacitate him for good but it bought Lara just enough time to cover the little distance that remained, dodging Trinity soldiers who quickly got dispatched by Sam. Their injuries wouldn’t keep them down forever but it would give Lara enough time to grab the artifact. And sensing that the coast was clear, at least, for the moment, Sam hurried down the stairs, dispatching two more grunts that rushed towards him, and continued his way down into the ballroom.

_So much for stealth._

And so much for getting out without any altercations, he thought dejectedly as he touched down in the ballroom and saw a Trinity grunt come up behind Lara and catch her in a chokehold.

“Where’s your leader, or was he too scared to come out here and face me himself?” Lara taunted.

“Lara, let’s not be stupid, here!” Sam warned, though the look of absolute disdain glimmering in her eyes, hot and wretched, told him all he needed to know about her mindset right now and suddenly, she lunged, biting down into the soldier’s arm as hard as she could and sent him yowling to the high heavens.

Sensing an opening, Sam fired off his gun and the grunt fell to the floor with a heavy _thump,_ leaving Lara still standing and completely unscathed, to his relief.

She barely looked shaken and calmly brushed out the nonexistent wrinkles on her dress before turning on her heel and stepping over the dead grunt who lay at her feet for the sake of picking up the crown off the display case on which it sat and motioning Sam to follow her back up the stairs. From their newfound vantage on the second floor, however, they quickly realized that their grand escape to Sully’s getaway car wouldn’t be so easy, not when more soldiers stormed through the open doors just as they ducked behind a marbled stone pillar that, to their relief, provided decent cover from the newcomers below.

“These guys just don’t give up, do they?”

“No, they don’t,” Lara commented. “But that’s Trinity for you.”

_I wish we had had a sure way of killing every last one of them so that this never happened. But then again, Sam has proven himself to be a good partner._

She looked over at her partner, feeling a strange sort of fondness that she couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind other than she knew Sam was _dependable_ and could rely on him through thick and… well, thicker.

Unless she got lucky, there was no chance in hell that Chase’s little band of wannabe G.I. Joe’s-turned-mercenaries was going to give up on the hunt for the crown or the Queen of Thorns’ tomb anytime soon but at least Sam was on _her side_ and while she didn’t appreciate Trinity’s presence or doubt her partner, her trust in Sam equalled that of what she had for Sully and for Jonah.

 _Jonah…_ The thought of her best friend made her heart sink a little bit, especially as his words -- the last ones he’d spoken to her before storming out of the mansion -- came flooding back: _“Lara, if you’re not going to stop while there’s still somebody there to catch you, then I’m not going to be there when you fall. I’m sorry.”_

 _At least I can be sure that you’ll catch me if I need it,_ Lara thought.

Once upon a time, it had been Jonah but he’d abandoned her, she realized with a heavy heart. The reason why was lost on her but she knew that, for whatever reason that may be, he had decided he didn’t want to come along on adventures anymore.

_On the bright side, I still have you, Sam. At least, for however long this treasure hunt has us working together._

When it was time, they would part separate ways with little incident but part of Lara felt thankful for the fact that they were still a long ways from finding the treasure because it meant they had more than enough time to spend working together. She definitely appreciated working with somebody as passionate as she was, that was for sure.

“Any ideas?” she whispered as they watched the mercenaries down below split up into different rooms.

There was very little daylight left outside but the crown sat heavy in her grasp, serving as a reminder of just how _close_ they were to making it back to Sully scot-free but still so, so far from getting out in one piece.

“I’m thinking,” Sam replied softly, clearly as unsure as she was.

Were it not for the crown, Lara would have suggested that they approach the guards with guns ablazing and force their way to Sully through the front of the mansion. Unfortunately, it was too fragile to risk and just from holding it in her hands, Lara felt how the precious gems in the fragile stone, encased only by the wire twists, trembled and threatened to fall out.

She felt most worried about the pointed, amethyst jewels sticking out of the top of the crown and only secured to the crown by wire twists and little adornments in the shape of lilac-colored roses made from ceramic or perhaps even gold.

One wrong move and they could fall out and potentially be lost forever.

“We need to be careful,” she reminded Sam. “One wrong move and this crown could shatter.”

She heard Sam utter “yeah, okay… c’mon” and wordlessly followed him to the room nearest them in hopes of reorienting themselves someplace where they would be safe, even momentarily, from Chase's goons, crawling carefully as to not draw the smallest amount of attention towards them until they had managed to straighten their backs and shut the doors to the room they were in, shielded from detection outside by the lack of light in the room and shadows stretching over the dark floor.

They were safe.

At least for now.

 _The crown is as good as ours,_ she thought triumphantly.

“Think we could head back the same way we got here?”

“Too dangerous,” Lara disagreed. “The crown is so fragile, it could break.”

“Well… then, we'll figure out a new plan.”

“We need to figure out a way to sneak through the front door.”

“ _The front door?_ Sam, have you gone mad?”

“Okay, okay, then _a door!_ We’ll sneak downstairs and sneak out though the staff entrance and--”

“They have to be around here somewhere! Search everywhere!”

_Shit, we’ve been made!_

“I’ll hold them off. Meet me where we found Sully in ten minutes,” Lara ordered as she shoved the crown into his hands and shoved him out of sight as she ran out of the room before he could protest and managed to do so just as Trinity soldiers came up the stairs and towards her.

“Come and get me, you bastards!” she shouted and off she went, spinning on her heel as she ran opposite of the room Sam was in and towards the archives.

 _Lara, what the hell are you thinking, running through the halls of some mansion like you own the place?_ she asked herself but of course, she didn’t know the answer to her own question and all she could do was continue running, especially with loud footsteps thundering not too far behind her.

After all, how could she possibly hope to explain herself when the frilly petticoat of her dress scratching her thighs had somehow ripped and continued to be an annoying reminder as she turned the corner and ducked into the first room that happened to be unlocked. In doing so, she ended up throwing herself halfway across the room and somehow managed to duck behind some furniture and out of sight of the mercenaries who were no doubt ruthlessly searching for her.

 _I need to regroup with Sam. We’ve already stayed here too long,_ she thought. Immediately, she deemed the hallway out of the question simply because the chance of running into Chase’s goons was too high but unfortunately, there was no other door leading out to a different room that could, at the very least, buy her a little time to plan out her next move.

_Damn, no way out through the hallway but… there is always the window._

Seeing no alternatives, Lara hopped to her feet and hurried over to the window, unlatched it, and stepped over the windowsill.

 _Just like the good old days, right?_ Lara asked herself as she balanced her weight on the ledge and carefully side-stepped along the outside of the mansion, all while hoping and praying that she wouldn’t slip or that her shoes wouldn’t give out on her without at least a few seconds of prior warning.

_I remember climbing around Croft Manor like this all the time, except the only difference is that I realize Croft Manor didn’t have as many stories to it as this place does… not that it'll make a difference if I lose my footing. And I suppose this is the most favorable path our hero can take, considering how bloodthirsty these beasts seem to be._

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the porch and more importantly, the open window that made her want to all but scream in celebration despite quite literally standing on the edge, back pressed to the brick and the ground only several feet below her being the only thing that would break her fall. Thus, she continued to inch across the ledge, timing each step so that it was purposeful and brought her closer to the porch railing, as each stride counted for at least three steps compared to if she had decided to shimmy her way across.

 _But the brave explorer refuses to give up and successfully shimmies her way across the Chasm of Death until she finds herself safe on the other side. Bet they never expected Lady Croft to climb along the outside of the mansion,_ she thought, all but throwing herself over the railing and climbing to her feet when she had finally gotten used to standing on the sturdy porch under her feet, triumphantly dusting herself off as she felt satisfaction thrumming through her.

She rushed over to the open window and hopped inside the room, relieved to find that it was empty…

“Well, well, well, Crofty. We meet again.”

…until it wasn’t.

“Waiting for your men to bring you the crown? Well, you're too late,” she scoffed, glaring at the blonde-haired mercenary as he climbed to his feet from where he’d sat in the shadows, downing the last of the amber liquor that remained in his glass before he tossed it, sending it shattering into dozens of tiny shards when it hit the floor.

“Yeah, I figured you'd be here as well. Didn't put it past you, Miss Croft,” he shot back without missing a beat.

“Anywhere you go, I'll be there first.”

“How romantic,” Chase scoffed. “Now, if you're done, tell me where the crown is.”

“I don't know.”

“You're lying.”

“Hey, buddy, the lady said she doesn’t want to dance so how about you leave with your dignity and your drink while you still can, alright?” Sam snapped as he rushed in, slamming the door open with so much force that it resounded with a loud _bang!_ reminiscent of a gunshot.

 _Sam! I'm so glad you're here!_ Lara thought excitedly. She was so happy to see him that she would have hugged him this very instant if Chase wasn't in the room and pointing a gun at her.

“Are you done? Or is there something else you want to say?” Chase asked, looking absolutely exasperated with Sam and Lara both.

“If you expected a bunch of witty quips, you got the wrong Drake.”

“Thing is, you’ll be wishing you hadn’t opened your big, fat mouth in the first place. Now where the hell is the crown?”

“Uh, I wrote the location down but it seems I forgot it in my other pants.”

 _Smooth, Sam,_ Lara thought, resisting the urge to laugh because, even though the situation they were in was quite dangerous and she had no idea where the crown was at the moment, Sam’s quip had the corners of her lips threatening to turn upward in amusement. _Real smooth._

“I always get my way so quit joking around so unless you want me to fill her with holes right here and now,” Chase snapped, grabbing his weapon from the holster at his waist and pointing the gun, a 9 mm Mauser, straight at Lara, “ _I suggest_ you’ll tell me where you put the crown!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, she’s got nothing to do with this!”

“Ah, but she does. And so do you. I figured I’d let you live so long as you were both useful to me but you’re quickly getting on my nerves, Drake. Now, what’ll it be: are you going to tell me where you hid the crown or am I going to have to pump your girlfriend full of lead?”

_“Girlfriend?”_

“How about you keep the gun on me, okay? She's got nothing to do with this,” Sam snapped. He prided himself for not getting fazed over the title Chase had slapped onto Lara, though he was taken aback by it.

Damn Chase for always being the loud, pushy, and obnoxious bastard Sam hated, much like Rafe.

_What I wouldn’t give to put a bullet in you, buddy._

“Let's not act like you're the brains behind the operation, Drake. You and I both know that Lara is the one doing all the research and dirty work and so, if I kill her, that's it. No more treasure for you and you get out of my way in one fell swoop.”

“That’s funny coming from you,” Lara scoffed. “You can't even kill anyone without needing one of your lackeys to pull the trigger!”

“You wanna try me?”

“Hey! _I said_ , keep the gun off her--”

“And what would you do if I shot her right now, hmm?” Chase mocked.

“Then do it, coward!”

While Chase was distracted, Sam rushed him, knocking the man backwards in an attempt to disarm him and Lara scrambled for the gun as well, finding herself struggling to grab Chase’s pistol. In a last-ditch attempt, she punched him in the gut as hard as she could and was pleased to see Sam follow up with another punch to the face that effectively knocked him out and caused him to hit the ground with a loud _thump!_

“C’mon, everybody probably heard that,” Sam said, breaking the silence that had hung heavily over them for a few brief moments.

“Yes, we’d best get out of here,” Lara agreed. “And by the way, where is the crown?”

“It’s in a safe place,” Sam assured her in a low, hushed tone. “Now let’s go!”

 _Safe place? I really hope you mean with Sully,_ she thought as they hurried down the dark corridor as quickly as they could without making a lot of noise, for they didn’t want to draw any attention to the guards who could be searching for them downstairs.

It proved somewhat difficult avoiding bumping into the pedestals positioned on either side of the narrow hallway -- the last thing they wanted was to knock them over and break the expensive-looking busts sitting atop them. And of course, they didn’t want to alert anybody else to their presence, either – but Sam and Lara managed to make it to the large window located at the end of the hallway they were in.

To their relief, it looked out onto the main courtyard and gave them a good view of their exit, where rather fancy cars – Sully’s, among them – were still parked near the flowing fountains.

“We’re practically home free.”

_Love your confidence, Sam._

As soon as they had the crown back in their possession, they were home free, she thought triumphantly, reaching for the latch to open the windowsill and felt Sam’s hand touch hers as he reached for it at the same time she did, flinching for a brief moment before she realized it was just her partner and not Chase or a Trinity mercenary trying to grab her.

“After you,” Sam said, sheepishly gesturing to the window. He felt somewhat self-conscious after they had both tried to open the window at the same time but Lara didn’t say anything -- she just flashed him a polite, sunny smile -- and stepped over the windowsill onto the balcony before he allowed himself to follow suit.

 _Try to be a gentleman, won't you?_ he silently scolded himself. _It just might improve your odds with her._

Granted, that wasn't his main objective but Lara had grown on him and he wasn't going to deny that he felt _something_ for her, either. At least, that was the best way he could describe it.

For now, however, he had to be content with leading Lara to the crown’s hiding spot, during which he handled her his hook and climbed down into the courtyard before her so that he could keep an eye out for mercenaries while she shimmied down the wall as well, avoiding looking up at her -- at her dress -- out of respect until her feet were firmly planted on the ground. He waved her along and led her around the corner to what had to be the staff entrance. There were two pots on either side of the steps and Sam walked over to the one on the left.

“You call that a safe place?” Lara scoffed, rolling her eyes as she watched Sam rip a plant, its stalks long and green, out of an orange, glass pot near a door that led back into the Rossi Estate, pulling up dirt and chunks of roots that had become displaced in his hasty attempt to pull them out.

“Hey, I can feel you rolling your eyes at me! And _yes,_ it’s safe!”

How nobody had noticed the large pile of dirt hidden right behind the glass flower pot was beyond her but Lara felt eternally grateful to feel the weight of the crown wrapped up in the makeshift bundle made up of Sam’s coat. When she unwrapped it, she was pleased to see it in perfect condition, exactly like how she remembered it from a few hours ago at the auction.

“Seemed a little risky stuffing it into a flower pot.”

“Yeah, well, seemed like a good idea at the time. And it worked, didn’t it?”

“ _Yes,_ it did,” Lara acknowledged. _Perhaps even a little too well._

“Wanna get going?” Sam started to ask but then he spotted over the top of her head a group of men -- Trinity mercenaries -- marching towards them and he grabbed Lara’s hand, dragging her along as fast as he could as they rushed to the grey car parked by the entrance to the Rossi Estate and all but leapt inside.

“You kids okay?”

“Just drive, Victor!”

By some miracle, Lara managed to shut the door just as Sully sped off and felt herself get knocked backwards, back pressed against the car seat and legs locked into place to provide a sturdy resting place for the crown in her lap. She immediately focused her hold on it, careful not to let go lest it go flying from the momentum as Sully veered corners without warning and certainly pushed the speed limit just in case they were being followed.

“So where’s the treasure?”

“We haven’t deduced that yet but we’ve found a part of a riddle,” Lara answered. “I’m sure it’ll lead us to the Scepter or, at the very least, to the next clue.”

“More clues, huh?” Sully sighed, sounding mildly irritated.

“We’ll figure it out, right, Lara?” Sam said from the backseat and the tomb raider grinned to herself.

“Right.”


	6. Downtime

_London, England_

_Croft Manor_

_8:45 A.M._

 

Waking up in Croft Manor, the smell of vanilla incense flooding his nose as he came to was a welcome scent compared to the musty stench of days-old cigarette smoke and uncomfortable motel rooms. His makeshift bed on the cot Lara had laid out for him in the study had been a dream to sleep on compared to some of the other sleeping arrangements he’d had over the course of his adventures and he noticed that she had shamelessly taken to sleeping on the couch across the room from him, like she didn’t want to be far away from the research in case she woke up in the middle of the night with an epiphany on the Queen of Thorns.

No such epiphanies came to her, as far as Sam knew, anyways, and she slept soundly through the night but he still admired her dedication to her work.

The couch had been abandoned and there was no sight of her on it but as his vision cleared, Sam saw her standing in the middle of the room, on the other side of the long table situated there that divided the room almost perfectly in half, surrounded by books and… treats?

“Hey, good morning, Lara.”

“Good morning, Sam. Coffee? Or would you like some breakfast?” she asked, gesturing to the pot sitting atop the hot plate at the other end of the table, far away from the fragile maps and books she’d laid out in front of her.

Nearby sat a three-tier tray filled with toast, blueberry muffins, and crumpets, all foods that Sam was familiar with from his travels but that left him feeling somewhat thrown off when it was being offered to him by Lara.

_Did she… make these herself?_

“Yeah, sure, coffee sounds great,” he agreed, sleepily trudging over to pour himself a mug, ignoring the silver milk pitcher and rather delicate-looking, porcelain bowl bearing sugar cubes in favor of drinking his coffee black, which was how he preferred it most of the time.

While he drank, he couldn’t help but notice how _curvy_ Lara's body was when all she had on was a grey, spaghetti-strap tank top that hugged her lithe frame and loose-fitting, black short-shorts, leaving her sun-kissed skin exposed.

_She’s pretty, she’s probably one of the most intelligent archeologists in her field, and can probably read her way around a map better than Nathan._

Granted, his brother was no longer in the treasure hunting business and while he would never admit it aloud to anybody, Sam felt that Lara was levels above his past associates and incredibly more attractive, intellectually and physically, than all of them combined.

 _Are you sure that your feelings for her aren’t influencing your opinion?_ he couldn’t resist asking himself, especially since the question repeatedly nagged him whenever he felt himself getting just a little too comfortable around the world-renowned tomb raider he was fortunate enough to call his partner.

“So, uh… no tea for you?”

“Surely you have a better question to ask me than that,” Lara half-laughed, half-scoffed and Sam couldn't resist grinning.

“Yeah, you're right. How about this one: why’d you go on this treasure hunt anyways?”

“That's much better,” she praised enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“I… I wanted to go on an adventure I would enjoy, so that I could find something to cherish at the end of it. As for Chase Carver, it doesn’t matter whether he’s really running a Trinity cell or he’s just trying to unnerve me…”

“He doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really.”

“But Trinity is a sore topic with you?”

“It _was,_ but not anymore. I think I’ve made my peace with… with everything Trinity did,” Lara admitted, though she wasn’t exactly keen on going into detail to explain what she meant, at least, not right now. Fortunately, Sam didn’t look interested in prying because all he did was suck in a breath before he said,

“I heard they were a force to be reckoned with back when they were still a force.”

“Fortunately for us, there’s just a few wannabes scuttling about now,” Lara scoffed, rolling her eyes at the thought of Chase Carver being anything more than a pompous ex-soldier dressed in Trinity gear he’d stumbled across on his adventures, if even that.

Trinity itself was gone, much to her relief, and whatever was left of it -- _if_ anything was left of it -- was scattered across the globe in complete shambles and she prided herself on being one of the contributors to the Trinity-less reality she and the rest of the world were enjoying. Trinity’s absence could be felt and, save for Chase Carver and his petty army of wannabe G.I. Joes, Lara felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known for years. Yamatai felt so far behind her and she had come to terms with everything Trinity had done, even that which had directly affected her and her father.

_I think… I can start moving forward now. Hunting for artifacts is still my passion and I don’t plan on giving up on that but I think I need to focus on a new aspect of it, at least for a little while._

“Nothing we can't handle together, you and me,” Sam commented, snapping her out of her thoughts. The smile he flashed her way, toothy and adorned by the unlit cigarette perched between his teeth, prompted her to return his smile with one of her own, finding it easy to grin at her partner following his reassuring words.

“That's true. So what’s your excuse?” she asked.

“I've been spending the last four or so years of my life trying to make up for lost time.”

“Lost time? What do you mean?”

“I was stuck in a Panamanian prison for thirteen years,” Sam clarified. “Not exactly my idea of fun, let me tell you.”

“Damn… that is quite a long time.”

“I probably would have rotted in that prison for the rest of my life if Rafe Adler hadn’t bought my freedom. Do you know him by any chance?”

“Heard of him, never actually met him,” Lara admitted.

She remembered seeing his name pop up several times in her father’s notes but that was decades ago, back when she was still a small child. Whatever dealings her father had with Rafe Adler abruptly ended sometime in the early 2000s without any reason given and Lara had been forced to simply accept it since her father was prone to dropping one project and starting another out of the blue, which was the case with him giving up on Egypt and suddenly starting a new logbook about Syria mid-research.

“Probably for the best. He was a real piece of work.”

 _“Was?”_ Lara asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, well, you see… he's dead.”

“There’s more to that story, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, definitely. I promise I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“I look forward to hearing all about it one day.”

“One day, when we’re not competing against a bunch of militant fanatics,” Sam promised. “Now, what have you been up to all morning? Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to try and decipher that clue and I think I’m onto something.”

“How did it go again? ‘When the skies turn red…’”

“‘The scepter and crown shall bind a soul together’,” Lara finished for him. “And-- wait, doesn’t this resemble a castle to you?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, trudging over to where Lara stood -- or rather, had stooped down so just the top of her head peeked out from behind the table, her eyes squinted as she gazed right at the crown. She tugged him down to her level and Sam clumsily came to crouch next to her, though he still couldn’t see what she was referring to.

That, and, in being pulled down into a crouch, he’d accidentally spilled his coffee.

“Look at the jewels. The tallest jewel is at the forefront, similar to a spire, while the rest of the jewels are much shorter and indicate that there’s a certain amount of distance--”

“That’s… a bit of a stretch, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, turning his head to look at Lara and in doing so, he realized just how _close_ their faces really were, in that he could count the freckles dotting her skin and admire the way her long lashes brushed against her cheekbones when she blinked.

“Ye of little faith,” she teased. “Or what if…”

Lara trailed off as her attention focused on the crown once more and Sam could only watch in confusion as she carefully lifted it off the table and held it above her head so she could peer at it from below, features twisted in firm concentration.

“What if? What if what, Lara? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“What if it’s not a series of towers but _a map_?”

“Um, this is all very exciting but how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Come on,” she laughed as she hurried out of the study with the crown still in her possession and down the hall to the library, running too fast for somebody carrying such a _fragile_ artifact that seemed capable of shattering just if somebody breathed too hard in its general direction. That was not a stretch by any means.

Upon stepping into the library, he came across _enormous_ statues fashioned like chess pieces sat on tracks built into the floor and appeared as if they would jerk to life and attack him for intruding. At least, that was the vibe that the marbled figures gave off to Sam -- that they were protecting something, perhaps their queen or maybe a treasure -- and he could only watch as Lara dragged out another statue, which was much more regal and stood upright with authority fit for a queen, out to the empty spot in between the two knights that crouched on either side, awaiting orders. Two beams of light had already been directed towards the empty spot, as if attempting to direct Lara where to move the queen, but Sam had no doubt that she’d adjusted them both herself.

_Geez, what doesn't this girl have?_

“The angle of refraction casts an image that most definitely lines up perfectly with some location on the map, wouldn’t you say?” Lara said while she fiddled with the crown sitting on the white queen’s head.

“What map?”

“Up on the ceiling.”

“Oh, how convenient,” Sam commented as he glanced up to find the world map painted on the ceiling in intricate detail, complete with incredibly accurate-looking country borders, mountain ranges, and major rivers. Upon closer inspection, he couldn’t help but notice _something peculiar_ about the way that the points were arranged and he blurted out,

“And hey, wouldn’t you say that the points resemble an island?”

“Perhaps you’re right but we need to make sure. C’mon,” Lara responded in agreement after she snapped a photo with her camera, waving Sam to follow her and he did, the pair trudging back to the study so Lara could print out the photo so that they could examine it more closely.

“Doesn’t that sorta look like a whale to you?” he asked after she’d connected the points with a thin, black marker that was easy to see but didn’t obscure the points created by the jewels on the crown.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“The riddle mentioned a red sky but nothing about an island.”

“It probably refers to its location.”

“How’d it go, again? ‘When the skies turn red…’”

“‘The scepter and crown shall bind a soul together’,” Lara finished for him.

“The sky turns red in a lot of places, doesn’t it?”

“My theory is that it specifically refers to weather patterns near the equator but I haven’t been able to figure out if they mean red skies at morning or at nighttime.”

“The equator, huh? That only narrows down our search to… like, a gazillion islands.”

“A gazillion is probably a good estimate,” Lara sighed, sounding somewhat exhausted by the mere thought of dashing to every single island in the world to check and see if it was the right one, which was an extremely unrealistic prospect. “And I suspect we are missing a significant portion of the riddle.”

“You think there’s a chance we missed it back at the Rossi Estate?”

“No, I don’t think so. We saw the plaque, remember? It was engraved with the entire riddle. Or rather, whatever we have to work with.”

“Then there’s a chance the rest of the riddle is… well, _somewhere_.”

“I think we need something a little more… _specific_ than ‘somewhere’,” Sam commented.

“Yes, _I know.”_

“We’ll find it… I hope.”

“I’ve been studying the queen so much lately, I can see charts behind my eyelids,” Lara laughed dryly. “Almost makes me wish I had a distraction even though this is what I signed up for.”

“Never hurts to take a break.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“So… wanna play 20 Questions?”

“I suppose we could,” Lara chuckled. “It’s not like the queen, wherever she is, is going anywhere.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“I was born on February 14th.”

“Huh, so you’re a Valentine’s Day baby.”

“So I am. What about you?”

“Uh…”

“Last time I checked, ‘uh’ is not a birth month,” Lara teased, playfully elbowing Sam in the arm.

“Well, I was born in April…”

“Okay, and what day?”

“April 1st,” Sam stuttered out and as soon as he did, Lara burst out laughing.

“What did your parents say?” she guffawed.

“My dad didn’t believe my mom at first when she told him that I was born. Took ‘im a few minutes and my mom yelling at him over the phone for him to come to the hospital. He didn't make the same mistake twice when my brother was born.”

“That's quite a funny story,” Lara chuckled.

“So how about you? Got any siblings?”

“No, it’s just me, though sometimes I do wish I had at least one. How about you? You mentioned a brother.”

“Got a little brother -- well, he’s not that _little_ anymore -- named Nathan.”

“ _The_ Nathan Drake? He’s your brother?”

“Yep, the one and only.”

“I’d heard stories about him but I never thought they were true until I started exploring as well.”

“Yep, it’s real. He’s found El Dorado, Iram of the Pillars, and you _wouldn’t believe_ the story about him in the Himalayas. It’s almost too crazy to be true.”

“I’ve seen a lot of crazy things in the past five years but maybe I’ve still got it in me to be impressed.”

“The story’s one-hundred-percent true when I say that Nathan got shot and was hanging from a derailed train in the Himalayas.”

“And he clearly lived to tell the tale,” Lara chuckled.

“He’s been retired for a few years and they’re expecting a kid now. He and Elena think it’s a girl.”

“Aw, how cute! And how do you feel about becoming an uncle?”

“I'm looking forward to it but I'm also glad I'm not the one who's going to be in charge of the parenting.”

“It must be nice to live such a normal life. Sounds… appealing.”

“Mmm… normal. You’ve got everybody gathered around the table for Thanksgiving, exchanging all the baby photos, somethin’ like that? Nah, no, thank you. Not for me. I like the hand we’ve been dealt.”

“Hmm… I suppose you’re right,” Lara muttered.

 _It’s better this way,_ she tried to reason with herself.

She had seen the impact that traveling for extensive periods of time and obsessing over one’s work had on family life, courtesy of Richard Croft being married to his work first and her mother second, and were Roth still alive, she had no doubts that she would be adventuring with him right this very moment rather than sitting in her father’s rather stuffy study with a man who was somewhere between a stranger and an acquaintance that she knew through Sully, a mutual friend of Roth’s that she’d known ever since Roth had become her guardian after her father died.

_While I wouldn’t have minded settling down, everybody around me seems to perish before I can get to know them well enough but… it’s okay, Lara. You have friends. They’re your family and you’re not completely alone. That is… if Jonah by himself can be considered “family”._

“I bet you’ve got some pretty unbelievable stories to tell, too.”

“Yes, so unbelievable that I’ve been called ‘crazy Croft’ before,” Lara chuckled dryly, effectively snapping out of her thoughts even though her heart still felt heavy.

_Roth was more of a father than my own father ever was and even he’s gone. I do wonder what he’d have to say about Sam Drake…_

“Because of Yamatai, right?”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that but yes, basically. However, it’s in the past now.”

“Really? Y-you sure?”

_But as much as I wish I still had my parents and Roth, I can always hope to start my own family one day._

“The manor is mine now, Trinity as an organization is gone for good, and now I can pursue my passions.”

“Like treasure hunting with me,” Sam chuckled enthusiastically, though, to himself, he thought, _are you enjoying this as much as I am?_

“That is definitely a plus,” Lara agreed wholeheartedly.

“Hey, um… do you mind if I…” Sam trailed off, gesturing to his pack of cigarettes in order to convey the question he didn’t feel like finishing and Lara smiled, lips curling back to reveal perfectly straight, white teeth that seemed to glitter in the dim light of the study.

“Of course, go right ahead. _And I_ ,” she announced as she leapt to her feet, “am going to have more coffee!”

Sam could only watch as she bounded over to the table and picked up her mug where she’d left it, downing whatever cold coffee remained before she poured herself a new cup, the jug kept warm by the hot plate she’d brought in. While she sipped on her coffee, her back turned to Sam, her attention seemed to be focused on one of the many books laid out on the table as she scoured for information on the whereabouts of the treasure or any clues that could lead them to its location.

He felt his heart soaring at the sight of her so engrossed in her work, like it was the only thing that could truly inspire passion within her and ignite that fire, and he knew for a fact he would never ever meet another young woman quite like Lara. Hell, Crystal couldn’t have even dared to hope to hold a candle to her, Sam finding himself rolling his eyes at the thought of his ex-girlfriend even making an attempt to get a foot off the ground while mountain climbing. Hell, she probably would have backed out _at the mere mention_ of mountain climbing.

Meanwhile, Lara looked like she’d jumped out of a plane and rocketed through the treetops with a torn parachute and lived to tell the tale.

_I like you. Like, really, really like you._

Sam looked up and noticed Lara was no longer holding her mug, attention now focused on massaging her thigh and he immediately felt dread bubbling in his stomach at the sight of her clearly in pain.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Mhm… it’s just my leg acting up again.”

“Seemed fine last night when you were running around the Rossi Estate like you owned the place,” Sam teased, hoping to lighten the mood even a little.

“Must have been the adrenaline,” Lara fired back without missing a beat, though her tone was equally light and playful. “I’ll be fine, though. I’ve had much worse.”

“That’s good to hear. You seem like a trooper,” Sam commented, though he was sure that what she meant by “much worse” was her impromptu freefall down a twenty-foot cliff that had left her with what Sam hoped wouldn't turn into a permanent limp.

He'd hate for somebody as adventurous as Lara to become permanently limited by an injury that shouldn’t have happened in the first place. The memory of Chase Carver throwing her off the cliff came flooding back and sent chills down his spine and even though he _knew_ _better than anybody_ that she could take care of herself, he still worried for her. After all, she was as human as everybody else on the planet.

“Mmm, I try,” she hummed.

And then, like she’d never paused to soothe her aching leg, Lara picked up the book she had been reading and resumed flipping through it.

“So far, I’ve been able to deduce that the riddle is a reference to an old sailors’ rhyme meant to determine whether the weather will be wet and rainy or dry the following day but that still doesn't give us a lot. I don’t think it’s even worth depending on unless we find the rest of the riddle.”

“Or her tomb.”

“Or that. Won’t you come and help me? Maybe we’ll find the rest of the riddle in one of these books if we put our heads together.”

Not one to say no, Sam hopped to his feet and strode over to where Lara stood, randomly selecting a book from the pile nearest him before he started to flip through it, smoking cigarette perched between his lips while he scanned the pages. The smell of nicotine and smoke filled the air and Lara could also smell a hint of cologne that reminded her of sandy beaches and adventure, two things she loved. If Sam proved to be a capable partner through and through, maybe she would finally come to consider him one of her best friends.

“Anything helps -- numbers, symbols, hell, even a map pointing to her tomb.”

“Hey, I think I’ve got something,” Sam announced as he unceremoniously set the book he was holding down on the table and jabbed his finger at a picture printed in the right-hand corner on the page, which was a painting of a woman who _had to be_ the Queen of Thorns.

Despite her menacing title, there was no evidence of thorns in the portrait, which clearly dated back to medieval times, and she was poised in a chair painted to look like it was made from stone. Her scepter and crown were on full display, the crown’s purple jewels sparkling against the sunlight and accentuating the golden dress she wore and the gaudy gold necklace she wore around her neck, which was encrusted with lilac jewels and shiny white pearls, and the scepter appearing just as foreboding and powerful as Sam had imagined it.

It was clutched between firm fingers, almost like she was certain that her enemies would come and try to steal it from her but there was no fear in her dark eyes. If anything, it looked like she was challenging all of her foes to _try her_ , certainty in her grip that told Sam she had no doubt killed hundreds of thousands of people in order to assert herself as a dominant and competent leader. However, he was convinced that the reason why so many of her enemies wanted her staff wasn’t for the power it symbolized but for the jewels encrusted all over the staff, clearly a sign of impeccable wealth and status and no doubt worth a couple of pretty pennies.

Underneath the picture, Lara couldn’t help but notice a handwritten caption scribbled in her father’s handwriting, although, upon closer inspection, she saw it was a cluster of zodiac symbols.

 

 

 

 

“Coordinates!”

“Can you make something of this because I sure can’t.”

“Dad was funny in that way,” she commented as she grabbed another book from the middle of the stack nearest her, sending several books toppling over in the process, and flipped through it until she found the page she was looking for.

“Never said things outright because he’d rather nobody know what he was onto.”

 _Damn, she’s hot when she’s determined,_ Sam thought, finding himself awestruck with just how _focused_ Lara had become as she spared glances between her notebook, the textbook she’d just opened, and the book with the symbols scribbled on the page in her father’s almost indiscernible handwriting.

_Scratch that, she’s fiery hot all the time._

“This symbol is unfamiliar,” Lara commented as she pointed to the strange-looking U with a single wavy line struck through it. “Why would Dad put this here?”

“I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and say that maybe he didn’t want people to know what he was up to?”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Lara scoffed, rolling her eyes as she flipped to the next page of the book, only to huff out a frustrated sigh.

Sam watched as Lara set down the book she was holding and grabbed yet another book out of the pile of books stacked in front of them, grabbing it from the middle and sending the rest of the books in the stack tumbling all over the desk in a haphazard mess. He managed to catch a glimpse of part of the title -- _Theoretical Tarot & Astrology _\-- and watched as she flipped through the pages with ease, aided by colorful sticky notes that had become wrinkled and creased with the passage of time.

“I found it! It’s Ophiucus, the lesser known 13th zodiac sign!” she triumphantly shouted, scribbling it into her notebook and thus, completing the set of coordinates her father had previously written out in code.

 

 

 

> Latitude: 13.2776324
> 
> Longitude: 86.6927104

 

She hurried around her father’s desk and grabbed a white poster tube from where it leaned against the wall behind the desk before carrying it back over to their workspace, unscrewing the cap on one end of the tube and allowing the map rolled up inside to slide out before she and Sam unrolled it, weighing down the corners with books they randomly grabbed off the table.

“Can I see those coordinates?” Sam asked, to which Lara responded by passing her notebook over so Sam could take a look and then proceeded to search for latitude, leaving the longitudinal coordinate for Sam.

Lara tried not to flinch when their fingers met a few moments later, stamped atop an island in the Indian Ocean, specifically--

“The Bay of Bengal.”

“I’m all packed and ready to go,” Sam announced, to which Lara couldn’t help but grin, enthused by Sam’s level of motivation.

“Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam doesn't have a canonical birthday so I made his bday the same as Troy Baker's. :)
> 
> also, what are chapter titles???


End file.
